Knotted Destiny
by Yilaou Aari
Summary: A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. An unexpected hero will appear. RR please! [complete]
1. Prologue

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited By:** buttons7

**Summery:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking

* * *

Every year a new discovery of mages is made, and every year only a few survive the ordeal to be the best: to be a black robe. For the few who survive this hardship find themselves wrapped within yet another task, the task to choose how to use their power. Will they turn against everyone, rising above the rest, or shall they help those in need of assistance? Most these days find themselves drawn to the shadows, choosing evil that corrupts their minds with hate, greed, and darkness.

For Tortall, a great kingdom in the north, the hold on peace is failing. Cities burn in the south, people starve as they head for refuge in nearby cities. Raiders take women, violating them before ending their life or discarding them along the roadside. Soldiers are stretched thin; allies find themselves unable to help, their hands being tied with rebellions. The darkness creeps upon Tortall, its soul set on the destruction of Tortall's heart: Jonathan of Conté and Tortall.

However doomed things seem, there is still a sliver of hope, and now the people of Tortall are turning to a long forgotten prophecy, one that tells of a warrior being born when the shadows fully descend upon the kingdom. Seers drain themselves trying to see when that will be and who will arise in the darkness, but all they manage to find is fog and silhouettes.


	2. Chapter 1

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited By: **buttons7

**Summery:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking

* * *

Kalasin of Conté, heiress to King Jonathan and Queen Thayet of Tortall, swirled her spoon around in her soup, her appetite leaving her slowly. The air these days smelled of smoke, and tasted unclean. The daylight was unnaturally short for the last two months, and peoples' minds were never at rest.

At the head of the table sat the King, to his right the Queen, to his left the Duke followed by his son, and next to the Queen sat the Princess. Barons and their wives sat on either side, their children sitting at a seperate table flirting with one another. All but the children were deadly silent, even the servants were unusally muted. The look on most people's face was that of weariness. Kalasin herself looked annoyed. Getting fed up with the silence, she looked over to her father and noticed gray strands of hair that shouldn't be there. The creases around his azure eyes were deeper and his complexion looked paler than normal. He slumped over slightly as he sipped the contents from his spoon. "How goes the war, Papa?" she asked softly.

Immediately, all who were present gazed up at her, their eyes cold as the corners of their mouths twitched or their spoons dropped into their bowls. Silence, even from those who had previously been talking, appeared.

"We are not at war with anyone, Kalasin. We are merely fighting raiders. This is not proper talk for dinner, or for a young lady, such as yourself, to hear or care about." Immediately he recognized his mistake, but it was too late to correct it.

Kalasin's sapphire eyes flashed dangerously at him before she also let her spoon drop into her bowl, arrousing a loud clang. Pushing away from the table, she nearly knocked her chair over as she stood up, her eyes now blazing with fury. "It's not something _I_ should care about! If I don't care about it, who will! You all obviously don't, otherwise you'd continue to share information and discuss matters to find new solutions! Those are _my_ people out there getting murdered, just as much as they are your people! I will not stand by while they suffer such a death, not while there is breath within my body. If you refuse to do something about this, then I will!" Storming off, ignoring her mother's calls, she marched into her room and slammed the door loudly behind her.

Thayet frowned and layed her hand upon Jon's arm, shaking her head when he went to get up. "Let her be, dear, she's just upset because she's helpless, and being as passionate about the lives of others as she is, being helpless is the worse thing for her. She'll be better in the morning, she just needs her space."

Jonathan nodded slowly, sitting back down and glancing at the others at the table who also nodded. "Is there any word of Roald?"

Duke Gareth the elder looked at his king, "Prince Roald's coming back in two days, Raoul will be here tomorrow, and Alanna's going to be visiting her family."

Jon nodded slowly, letting the discussion turn into that of the latest fashion, and issues in neighboring kingdoms as he sunk deep in thought. His daughter's words had bit into him, and still they stung.

* * *

Stefan, a stable boy with wild magic involving horses gazed down at a lad who was silently walking along the stalls, looking carefully at each horse. He looked to be no more than fourteen; slender and short, his build like that of a child's. Climbing down from the hay loft, Stefan walked up behind the boy and cleared his throat.

Kalasin nearly had a heart attack as the noise that came so close behind her broke the silence. Turning around quickly, she stared ahead of her, and then looked up to see a shadowed figure. Frowning she measured him up. He had blonde hair, was a good two heads taller than herself, and he had a slight belly that bulged a bit, like his ice blue eyes. 'Stefan...that's who this must be.'

"What business do you have here, _boy_?" spat Stefan, suspecting that the "boy" was a thief.

"Why, sir," Kalasin said, making an effort to deepen her voice as well as have a commoner's accent. "You see, I have a message that must reach m'lord Prince Commander Roald. It's urgent news from th'almighty Highnesses in that yonder castle."

Stefan 'hmphed' and glared down at the child. The lad wore black breeches and a cream-colored tunic. At his waist was a nice leather hilt with a decent looking dagger being held within. Black leather boots covered his feet and blended in with the breeches, all of the black making the unevenly cut ebony hair stand out, but what stood out most were the piercing blue eyes that were filled with so much emotion that they were unreadable.

"If it's really this urgent, I sure aint gonna keep ye, but lemme see that there parchment to make sure this aint no trick a street thief would try to pull."

"Why, I never!-" began Kalisin, but she was silenced when the man's expression became suspicious.

Holding up a bag, she glared dangerously at him, "'tis here _sir_. So 's I don't lose it. It's involving the newest plans, and ya didn't hear this from me, but I overheard his magesty thinkin' of pulling his armies back a bit. He's gettin' nervous he is."

Stefan nodded, knowing that was true, and pointed to a snow-white mare three stalls away from them. "Take Mavaiya. She's our fastest, she'll get you t' their location within a few days' ride. Good luck to ye, lad."

Kalisin nodded and dashed over to the mare, holding out her hand to the mare before slipping her hands to either side of the horse's nose and blowing into it to show who was boss. She had seen Daine, the wild mage, do this multiple times to the riders' ponies.

Stefan, holding a saddle and reins in his hand, gazed at the diminishing figure of the ivory beauty and the shadow upon her back. 'He's riding bareback!' the man thought, flabbergasted. He knew only two people that managed to ride that swiftly bareback: Daine, and Princess Kalisin. 'It can't be...can it?' he thought to himself shaking his head.

* * *

Kalasin moved with the horse, gripping the mane firmly yet gently. Her strong legs gripped the sides of the mare firmly as she urged the mount onward into the darkness of the forest. Taking in her surroundings, Kalasin realized she was on the well-used path that the pages-in-training took deep into the forest that was forbidden to all. Rumor had it that the thicket of plants were enchanted by the Goddess herself.

Kalasin always loved these tales and told them over and over again to her younger sibblings. Pouting at the memory and the minor pang in her heart, the young girl slowed the mare down to a trot to save energy. Proceeding on their path, Kalasin glanced back and only saw shadowy branches reaching up into the moonless sky. Ahead, she knew from riding with her mother and the Queen's Riders, there was a main road leading to a small town. 'There,' she thought to herself, 'I can stop at an inn. I grabbed all the coin I had, and a couple of gowns to trade for items. I can also hunt if I sleep outside, however, there is Mavaiya to tend to, so that will cost me a bit.'

Hours passed by as the princess and her mount travelled ahead until they reached a clearing. "Come on Mavaiya, the town's just over this hill. I'll pay a nice man to give you lots of hay, you've been good to me," cooed the girl as she ran her fingers along the mare to recieve a snort. Picking up the pace, the mare raced inbetween the town's gates and only stopped when Kalisin tugged on her mane at the front of an inn.

Sighing tiredly, the girl slid off of the horse and looked around, seeing a small boy staring at her. Smiling she pulled her saddle bags off of her shoulder and reached in one of the pockets. Pulling out a leather pouch, she slipped a coin from it and held it out to the boy who shook his head and continued to stare.

Not one with much patience, Kalasin narrowed her eyes at the boy. "What _are_ you staring at! I'm sure you've seen horses before. I would appreciate it if you could put her into the stable and give her fresh water and hay, and I'm positive I'm not under paying you-"

"No sir," interrupted the boy abruptly, his green eyes still wide but twinkling. "I never did see a bare-backer 'afors. Ya looked like a god on that there horse, all glowy with the mist settlin' in. Yessir, I'll take good care o' her." Taking the coin from Kalasin's fingers, he bit it to make sure it was real and then slipped it into a pocket before beckoining the mare to go with him.

Kalasin sighed and nodded to Mavaiya when the horse turned her head to look at the girl with a look that said, "I _have_ to go?"

Once Mavaiya was put into a stall and the boy dashed off to fetch fresh water, the girl walked silently into the inn only to be greeted with noise of people laughing and talking or telling stories. There were a few soldiers, but the rest looked like normal travellers. 'Normal, but dangerous,' she thought to herself as she glanced at their weapons hanging at their belts. Scantily dressed women were also hanging over many of the men, flirting with anyone who would listen. Disgusted, she walked over to the bar and looked at a stocky well dressed man.

"Excuse me sir," she said softly.

The man gazed down at her and smiled, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, are you the owner?"

"Yes, lad, ya want a room?"

"Yes please, just a small but comfortable one, with a bath waiting if you please."

"Of course-" The man stopped abruptly when he saw she was holding out a gold coin. Hesitating a moment, he finally took it and walked out from around the counter, standing in front of her. "This is a lot of money for a wee lad like yerself to be havin' on hand-"

"Sir, I am not thief if that's what you're getting at and I'm tired, dirty, and hungry. I would also like a meal with that bath."

"Of course," the man said sounding more reassured that it wasn't stolen coin. "Right this way."

Kalasin followed the man up some stairs and was directed to a room on her left. Being let in, she nodded approvingly and set her bags on the fluffy bed in the corner of the room. Turning around, she saw that the man was still standing there. "Yes?"

"What is a lad like yerself doing alone?"

"My business is my own, Mr..."

"Alden Beardon, if it pleases you."

Nodding, Kalasin glanced at a couple of maids who were holding a tub and bucket of hot water. Turning her back to them, she waited until all three people left her room and shut the door behind them before stripping her clothes from her body. After settling in the tub of hot water, her previously aching muscles relaxed and her lids felt heavy as sleep threatened to envelop her. "I wonder what Papa and the others are doing right now, if they even know I'm gone."

A loud rapping on the door interrupted her thoughts and caused Kalisin to scramble out of the bath. Drying herself, she slipped her breeches and tunic back on before opening the door to admit a maid who smiled coyly at her. "Yes?" blurted Kalasin, unsure of how to respond to someone of the same sex flirting with her.

The lady pouted and then shook her head, "Master Beardon said to fetch ya for a meal. He thought ya might'a drowned. Ya've been in here for a good hour or so."

"I see. Well, I am hungry...tell him I'll be down in a moment."

"Very good, sir," replied the maid as she fled the room.

After hiding her saddlebags, Kalasin walked on down the stairs and took a seat at a table in a corner, thanking the lady who gave her a plate of food and a glass of water. Picking at her food, she didn't notice some people pointing at her from accross the room, nor did she notice that one of them stood up and was walking towards her.

The man grinned when the lad finally noticed someone was standing next to him and looked up. Kalasin on the other hand wasn't grinning at all and had slipped her hand to the knife in its sheath at her waist. Scanning the man over, she noted that he was a knight and very well built, even attractive; when he moved, his muscles were visible under his well-worn tunic. A long blade hung at his waist as well as a double-headed axe. Realizing she would be easily beaten by him if he started any fights, she moved back a little and continued to look up until her gaze settled onto his face.

Her sapphire eyes went wide and her ivory skin paled. She reccognized this knight from being served at dinner one time with him and from questioning Roald, her brother, about who his friends were. This was Merric of Hollyrose. His red hair had browned and was tousled a bit from having fingers run through it. His usually light skin was sandy colored with a noticeable tan. He had a broad nose, slightly thin lips, and somewhat rosy cheeks. 'He's grown up so much,' she thought to herself as her mouth fell open. She wanted to say something to him, but quickly she snapped her jaw shut.

Merric raised a brow and then asked if he could sit down. Taking a seat before Kalasin had time to respond he looked the boy over and then smiled. "You look familiar, are you one of the new squires?"

Kalasin frowned and shook her head. She pouted mentally while part of her thought it horrible that he didn't recognize her, the other half of her thinking it wonderful. 'Ah, but he does recognize me, he just doesn't know it yet. He says I'm familiar to him, but he can't put his finger on it,' she told herself and smiled at the man sitting by her.

"Why no, sir, I'm no squire, page, or any of that sort. Not legally at least. Momma and Papa said no when I begged them to let me fight...they said I needed to grow up and be a proper la-" Stopping herself she blinked. She almost gave it away. "A proper lad..."

"I see. Where are you off to?"

Shrugging, the disguised girl took a sip of her drink as she looked at the table where Merric had been sitting and choked on her drink when a set of intense blue eyes settled on her own. "Roald!" she croaked out in horror.


	3. Chapter 2

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited by:** buttons7

**Summery:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking

* * *

Merric looked down at the ebon-haired boy and then gazed over to where his Prince and friend sat. 'They look almost identical,' he thought to himself, dumbfounded. "Why don't you come sit with us, boy? You look like you could use some company and I promise we won't bite." Without waiting for a reply, the man pulled Kalasin up out of her chair with a strong sturdy grip and tugged her along, not noticing her attempts to pull away.

"Here, I got us a new fellow to keep us company while we're here. This here, to our right, is Prince Roald, which you already know...anyone can pick him out of a crowd. Beside him is Gamba, and I'm Merric. There are some others around here somewhere, but they aren't as important as us, isn't that, right Roald?"

Roald nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving Kalasin's. "And who is this Merric? Or have you forgotten to ask?"

"I'm Kale," blurted the girl, "Kale from Langston. It's near the southern border."

As soon as the others showed they accepted her answer, Kalasin let out the breath she had been holding and mentally thanked the few geography lessons she had had in previous years. After a few moments of awkward silence, the conversation picked up and the three of them talked about the war, what it's like to be a knight and, lastly, upcoming events, one of them being Midwinter Festival.

Kalasin sighed and rested her head against her fist, gazing out the window. 'Midwinter Festival is only a month away and I'm going to miss it. It's my favorite time of year too...' Soon she was pouting without realizing it, as she continued to dwell on the fact she wouldn't be home. 'Well, it'll probably be quiet at home anyway, since everyone's out fighting. That's where I belong as well; out fighting amongst my people, equal status. No one realizes that we're the same as everyone else, just in different ways. I'm human too, I have feelings, I have imperfections, and I have a heart. I bleed the same blood, I cry the same tears, I breathe the same air. I am one with my people and I must fight for them'.

"What is it, Langston, you got a girl on your mind that you'll be seeing during Midwinter?"

Kalasin blinked and gazed at the companion who had asked that question. "No, do you?" she asked the tall black youth they had called Gamba.

His honey eyes flashed in amusement, "back in Corus there's a girl I'm interested in. She works in a dress shop."

The girl nodded and then looked at Roald and Merric. 'Roald has Shinko...I wonder if he knows she went back home to help settle a rebellion. She took some of our best soldiers so she'd be safe and Numair had been planning on dropping by to see if she needed help. He'll be lonely, Roald will,' she thought as her gaze settled upon those deep blue pools of her brother's. "Are you gentlemen leaving tomorrow for Corus?"

"Yes. A handful of us are going home for a break and then being shipped back out," replied Roald coolly, as his eyes narrowed a bit at Kalasin.

Shame-faced, she looked down at her lap before standing up. "It's been fun, but I'm tired and should turn in for the night. Have a safe journey m'lord," said the girl quietly, with a wobbly bow, "and you, gentlemen." Hurriedly she left and clambered up the stairs. Once she was safely in her room with the door locked, did she let out a sigh of relief and walk over to her bed. Lifting up the mattress, she retrieved her bags and pulled out some parchment and ink. Carefully and quickly she wrote to her father:

_My King,_

_Do not worry about me, dear father. I am choosing the path that I have always wanted to take; to be beside my kingdom in battle, fighting for what's right with all my heart, body, and soul. _

_I know that you and mother didn't want me to attempt knighthood, and instead wanted me to do my country well with being the lady who gets married off for treaties. I wish not to be a lady but a warrior, wielding a sword and defending the defenseless. I am not afraid to kill, nor am I afraid to die. I am where I belong, and you are where you belong. Don't send anyone after me._

_I suppose you should know I tricked the stable guards in thinking I was a messenger so as they wouldn't question me. I then rode as fast as I could as far away from the castle as possible. I am in good health and have seen, even talked to Roald, Sir Merric of Hollyrose, and Sir Gamba. I'm not sure where Sir Gamba from, but he's nice enough. He's a bit quiet, and doesn't look like much at the first glance, but he appears to be faithful. If all goes well, you will hear from me soon. Wish me luck. I send my love with this letter._

_Yours Truly, Kalasin_

After folding up the letter and tying it with a piece of ribbon, she stepped out of her room and looked around. Seeing no one, she closed her eyes and let go of her Gift, seeking out the familiarities of her brother. Feeling his power within a room caddie-corner of hers, she felt around it. There were two others there, whom she assumed were Merric and Gamba, and they were well awake. 'I'll just have to be fast, I suppose,' she thought as she opened her azure eyes.

Swiftly and quietly she padded down the hall to Roald's room and stopped in front of the door. Crouching down, she took her letter and slipped it under the door then ran back to her room. Shutting her door, she locked it, and then opened her window. Grabbing her sack, she slipped onto the roof outside her window and landed on the ground with a thud. She groaned as she stood up and rubbed her rump before running towards the stables.

* * *

Roald and the others fell silent as the parchment slid under the door. Nodding to Gamba, who had stood up and retrieved it, he held out his hand and took the letter from him. Carefully, he untied the ribbon and unfolded it. His eyes widened as he read it out loud to his roommates. Narrowing his sapphire eyes at the door in thought, he suddenly gasped and stood up quicker than an eye blink. "Kale!" he suddenly yelled in alarm.

Out of the room tumbled the three men, their eyes wild with mixed emotions of excitement, worry, and astonishment. Roald closed his eyes and focused on an image of "Kale", letting his power leak out around him in search of this person. Gamba had gone downstairs to see if anyone saw someone leave. Merric stood there, frowning. When Gamba came back, shaking his head, Roald snapped out of his trance and glared at no one in particular. "She's not in the building!"

Merric grinned, "She's a smart one. Left out her window, I bet. She's probably leaving right now, knowing you would have read her letter, and also knowing that as much as you'd like all of us to go galloping after her, we can't. We have to get you _home_ to Corus. You have to give that letter to your father. After he reads it we will venture out after her, risking our lives and going against her wishes."

"Shut up, Merric," growled Roald as his fists clenched and unclenched.

Gamba decided to leave them alone and start packing their things.

Merric put on a serious look and stood straighter. He had grown in the last few years and was now as tall as Roald. "My Prince, you are our priority. We have our orders to get you safely home and that is what we'll do; get you home."

Roald refused to accept this answer and started pacing, his thoughts racing through his head like wild horses on the run. "She can't get that far. I wonder when she left...how she got out of the castle un-noticed. If we leave now we'll catch up to her...or _one_ of us could go after her."

"No. Absolutely not!" cried Merric, his blue-grey eyes wide.

Roald glowered at him and tried to stand a little straighter. Taking on the air of someone with authority, Roald smirked devilishly. "I _order_ you and Gamba to go after her. I have the other soldiers to look after me, you two will not be needed, I guarantee it."

"Roald, don't bother ordering me around. My orders came from someone whom I'm more scared of than you," was Merric's calm response.

Clenching his fists until they were white-knuckled, Roald stormed off down the stairs, just as Gamba came out with their packed items. Ignoring protests from Merric and Gamba, as well as the odd looks of their fellow soldiers, Roald marched out the door and took off at a run to the stables, stopping for a moment only to see the image of a white horse carrying a shadowed figure south of the inn and Corus. Taking off at a run once Merric and Gamba caught up, he cussed.

"Roald, we can't follow! She's heading south where the fighting is heaviest and most dangerous!" said Gamba, his voice ringing with alarm.

"We _have_ to follow her."

Merric shook his head and mounted up, tossing a coin to the stable boy. Looking up into the starry sky he prayed to Mithros for protection, and to the Goddess to look after his Princess.


	4. Chapter 3

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited By:** buttons7

**Summery:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking

* * *

Onward Kalasin rode, urging her mount to go as fast as possible. Scenery passed them in streaks of blurred color, the only thing staying in focus was the road ahead. Soon, even that became a blur as the girl's sight grew fuzzy. 'I'm tired', she suddenly realized and slowed Mavaiya down to a canter. "If I fall off, drag me off the road and hide," she whispered to the mare with doubt that the horse understood. Sleep seemed to come upon the girl at full force for, within minutes, the Princess was asleep, her limp body leaning against the horse's strong neck. 

Though she knew it was a long time after she had fallen asleep, it felt like only seconds had passed when she hit hardened earth with a thud, waking to pain and voices.

"She's the one we're to look after?" a booming voice asked.

"Brother, she is the one," said another voice, only more calmly. This voice, unlike the previous, sounded like wind gracefully blowing across the land, and yet there was a harshness like a pack of hounds racing after their prey.

"Sister, dear, look at her. She's a runt! She won't last and we are wasting valuable time," replied the voice from before. This voice was definitely a man's. It was deep and held authority. The man's voice, which prickled with the clang of swords, but was filled with warmth like the sun itself sent chills down Kalasin's spine.

A groaning Kalasin opened her lids, her blue orbs widening as far as they'd go, her jaw dropping open, and her throat going dry. In front of her stood two very tall figures, one female the other male. The female's skin was as pale as the moonlight glow, and her green eyes blazed with radiance. Her hair fell around her shoulders in long curly locks and the gown she wore shimmered in the night.

The man, however, looked far different from the lady standing next to him. He was donned in snow-white tunic with gold plated armor on top of it. His skin was dark brown, his eyes dark as night and his hair was cropped short. In one hand he held a gold spear, the blade on it showing white hot.

Looking down near his feet, his piercing eyes settled upon the small, frail figure that sat before him. The girl he looked at just gazed at him, her normally ivory skin going ashen as his presence and power pressed upon her. Her black hair was messily cut short, her cream tunic marked with dirt. Her breaches showed where dust settled and her hand was gripping the hilt of her dagger, white-knuckled.

"Stand up, Kalasin of Conté, and ride your horse home, where you belong," demanded the man.

A fire inside the girl that she didn't know she had blazed with fury at his words. Swiftly she stood up, her sapphire eyes narrowing at the figures as the realisation of who they were settled upon her. "Great Goddess, Mithros, forgive me for not being more respectable and bowing to you, but I do not bow to those who believe I'm weak or those who think they know where I belong," she spat, her words like poison.

Her jaw clenched when they both turned to her, Mithros beating down on her with power to make her submit, the Goddess looking thoughtful. 'I will not give in,' Kalasin thought as her knees grew wobbly. "Leave me be if you have no interest in me," she cried out as her head started to pound.

The Goddess smiled and settled her hand onto Mithros' shoulder. "You have underestimated this young one, brother, as I thought you had. She defies you because of the lack of faith you have in her, not out of lack of respect. Give her a chance to become what she was meant to be. Give her a chance to fulfill the prophecy and set things to order."

A grumble, which sounded more like the roar of thunder to Kalasin, emitted from Mithros as his dark eyes glanced quickly to his sister and then settled onto the Princess. Nodding, he took a step towards the girl as the Goddess became shrouded in a thick mist and disappeared.

A large, surprisingly cool hand rested upon the soft skin of Kalasin's cheek. A small gasp escaped from full, pink lips. Kalasin's long dark lashes fluttered as warmth suddenly filled her body. Every muscle in her body relaxed, her nerves feeling as if they went numb to the touch.

"Perhaps my sister is right, and I have judged you too soon, but you are just a frail girl," said Mithros softly, his voice filled with the heat of a summer's day. "You will happen upon multiple tasks along the way of a hard journey that you have chosen to take. There are dangers here that you wouldn't expect; immortals, both ones that are known and others which have yet to be revealed. There are bandits, hillmen, soldiers of enemies as well as those that belong to Tortall.

"You, Kalasin, have a kind heart that can shatter easily. You aren't use to the hard life of a warrior that can easily break your body. You must constantly be someone you aren't, hiding your true identity for the safety of those you love, as well as yourself. This journey will most likely claim your life if you continue on, and no one will come for you to rescue you anymore, whether you wish it or not. You are alone now, Kalasin of Conté. Knowing all of this, do you accept this burden that will be put on your shoulders, the burden of the prophecies you are to fulfill?"

Dazed, the Princess nodded, her azure eyes never leaving the dark pools of the god's eyes. She felt so weak, so awed by the change in Mithros she had just witnessed. "W-what prophecies are you speaking of, and why are you choosing me?" she somehow managed to ask.

A smile crossed Mithros's thin lips as he replied, "The prophecies tell of an individual who will defeat evil when darkness descends upon all of man-kind. That time has come, Kalasin, and your courage, your strength, is what it may take to allow these prophecies to come true. This wouldn't be necessary if gods were allowed to interfere greatly in the mortal realm, but even if we were allowed, we are kept busy in our own kingdom. The evil isn't just upon mortals, but the gods as well. I have to go-"

"No, wait! I...what if I fail?"

The god seemed to look pale at that suggestion, but quickly hid his emotion and shrugged. "Beware of everyone and everything around you. You have both friends and enemies, but you can trust no one. Be safe Princess, I will check up on you when I'm able, if I have enough strength to do so." With that said, Mithros bent down and pressed warm lips against the smooth skin of Kalasin's forehead. Images rushed into her mind of bodies littering the reddened ground. A shadow hovered over one body in particular, and to Kalasin's horror when she squinted to see its face, it was herself laying there with arrows planted in her body and a sword shoved into her chest.

The image faded when the god finished disappearing back to his home. 'That must be what will happen if I fail,' the girl thought grimly, 'if I die before I complete this task, then we all die. But, what was that shadow? Who was that shadow?'

Suddenly, Kalasin noticed that dawn was coming and she hadn't had much sleep. Groaning, the girl looked around for Mavaiya, spotting her grazing on a patch of grass nearby. Sluggishly, she walked over to the mare and ran her hands over her back before struggling as she mounted up. Clicking her tongue against her teeth and gripping fistfuls of the mare's mane, the girl nudged the horse lightly with a booted foot, "Come on, girl, we have a way to go yet before we can rest."

Mavaiya snorted and took one last bite of grass before turning to walk off, but halted abruptly. Her ears went back and her nostrils flared. Something was out there, something not right. The Goddess had told her to keep the girl safe and if she were to go in the direction her rider wished her, they'd be walking into danger.

Kalasin frowned deeply and stared at her horse, "What is it girl?" she asked soothingly.

Mavaiya shook her head and pawed at the ground, snorting again as Kalasin slipped off of her back and lifted the saddlebag over her shoulder before continuing along the path. Whinnying a protest, Mavaiya followed the girl, all her senses alert for the slightest movement or feel of danger.

Kalasin trudged along, stumbling on the slightest raise or dip in the ground. The exhaustion that was enveloping her blinded her to the fact that Mavaiya had stopped dead in her tracks and was whinnying a warning to the girl. Moments later, a rope was looped around her torso, tying her arms to her sides.

The girl felt her rump hit the hard earth once again and swore, looking up with fire blazing in her eyes. Gathered around her were three male centaurs. A centaur was an immortal shaped like a human from the waist up and a horse from the waist down. There were different types of centaurs, those which were very dangerous and would kill you with metal claws and teeth, and those which were the sociable type, trading with villages for goods, helping out in battles if needed. The centaurs Kalasin gazed at weren't the ones to worry greatly about; they had no metal claws instead of hands and hooves.

"What's a young girl like you doing all by yourself with a pretty looking slave like that innocent blood over there?" asked the centaur who was holding the rope leash that imprisoned her as he nodded to Mavaiya.

Kalasin's blood went cold as she looked her captors over. The one that had spoken had brown hair that ended just below his shoulders and was tied back with a black band. His skin was sandy colored and his big brown eyes were intimidating. He had a straight nose and long lashes. His lips were thin, but his teeth, she saw when he smiled, were pearly white. There was a long gash on his right breast that still bled from a battle recently fought.

Seeing her eyes linger on his wound, the centaur smirked. "It's from some raiders we had to take care of. They thought they could loot us, but they were proven wrong, their lives were taken for it. Now, how about you be a good lil' thing and answer my previous question: what is a young girl like yourself doing here?"

Kalasin swallowed and tried to stand up but was jerked back to the ground. Glaring, she looked deep into those brown eyes with her azure ones and cleared her throat. "My business is my own and I just want to make it to the next town for a place to sleep. I'm no raider and I wish not to do harm to you, any of you, and I wish to be let go, now, if you please."

Laughter rang into the air from the three males and two females that held Mavaiya captive. "You think we'll let you go that easily?" chuckled the brown-haired male.

"Well, no, but if you do, I'll heal that wound for you. That way it won't get infected and it won't hurt. You won't even have a scar unless you want one," replied Kalasin coolly.

The male suddenly turned serious and walked up to her, the rope firmly held in his hand. Circling around her he snorted, "And what makes you think I'll trust you?"

"You could take my weapon. I have the gift for healing. If you'd rather have that wound go bad, then ignore me, but I must really insist you let me take care of it."

"What's the catch?"

"I be let go along with Mavaiya and you leave us alone."

"Forget it. It's not enough to give you our trust. You're coming with us, you and that slave, and we'll take you to Graystreak. He'll know what to do with a younglin' like you who's full of fire." Chuckling, he bent down and hoisted Kalasin over his shoulder before taking off in a gallop, the two males following on either side behind him and then the two females towing a very displeased Mavaiya.

With a sigh, Kalasin closed her eyes, deciding now would be a good time to catch up on lost sleep, 'but first,' she thought to herself, 'I'll tend to that wound. Even if they decide to enslave me or kill me or anything, I'll have done something good that may make a difference in the future.' Looking inside, she found her pool of magic and dipped a hand in it, withdrawing a handful of magic. Fixing the gash in her mind, she threw her magic to it and traveled through the wound, burning out the start of an infection, a piece of rusted metal from a knife that must have inflicted the damage, and then she started to magically sew the skin together, fusing it so only a scar as visible as a few strands of hair bunched together was present.

Feeling even more exhausted, Kalasin bit her lip and took a deep breath, deciding not to stop there, but to see if anything else needed mending. Spreading her magic throughout his body, she found bruises which she healed, a torn muscle, and a chipped bone. Using up the rest of her strength to mend the muscle and bone that were his horse-half, she gave into sleep once the job was done. Sinking into darkness, a smile crossed her lips, 'I've done good,' she thought to herself.

* * *

The next morning, Kalasin awoke with a start, her heart racing as she looked around her with widened eyes. 'It was just a dream,' she thought to herself with relief as images from her night-mare flashed in her mind; a great battle, the smell of burning flesh belonging to both human and animal. A shadow of a beast stood at the top of a hill, behind it were thousands of different immortals intertwined with humans. Beside the beast stood human-looking figure with blazing eyes that were red, flecked with brown and yellow. Kalasin shuddered and stood up, stretching stiff limbs. 

She was in a wooden room that had a thick woolen rug in the center and a pile of pillows, which she had slept on, in the corner. A small table with a plate of food and water was in another corner, and near the door was a bucket to use as a privy. Shaking her head, Kalasin walked over to the food and used her gift to test it for poison, or anything that could harm her. It was safe, along with the water. Feeling thirsty rather than hungry, she gulped the water down and looked around for her pack. It leaned against the wall near the pillows, and beside it was a silk white gown, a breastband of her size, and clean loincloth. Clenching her fists she walked over to the door and twisted the doorknob only to find it locked. Kicking the wooden barrier, she stalked back over to the pillows and dropped down on them, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at nothing in particular.

Minutes passed as Kalasin got fed up with sitting and paced around the room before the door finally opened to admit a large centaur. He looked to be in his fifties and had fair skin. His black and gray streaked hair that was twined and oiled into ringlets. The ends held an assortment of beads. He donned a wrap-around shirt that hung loosely on his body, the hems slightly tattered. Metal chains adorned his wrists and a few around his neck while strung beads and ribbons. His horse half was a blue roan with a black and white streaked tail. The white strands of hair were braided and held beads here and there.

Kalasin gasped and ran to a corner of the room, pressing herself against the wall when the centaur ran at her. Closing her eyes, she waited for an impact of his hooves that never came. Slowly, she opened her blue eyes and found him in front of her, blocking her only exit. On either side of her head was his hand as he hovered over her. She felt his eyes looking her up and down, examining her as if she were a slave being sold off. The warmth from his breath and body surrounded her as fear gathered in her throat.

"I'm Graystreak, the chief of these centaurs. What might your name be?"

"Kale, sir," she replied weakly.

"Yes, _Kale_, you'll do just fine," the creature said with a wicked grin.

* * *

**AN:** Thank you for the nice reviews! Also, I have been noticing (and it's been pointed out to me multiple times) that I had been spelling "Kalasin" as "Kalisin". I apologize for that mistake and I have gone through the chapters and re-typed her name so that it is now accurate. 


	5. Chapter 4

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited By:** buttons7

**Summery:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking  
_blah_ Dreaming

* * *

"Yes, you will make fine children. If I'm lucky, you'll even have one of my kind, and I hear you're a healer. Do you know what that could do for us if we had those types of powers!" asked Graystreak dreamily.

Kalasin felt herself trembling as the centaur grew nearer still. The look in his eyes when he gazed at her made her stomach churn. His orbs were filled with lust, and that was all. He didn't care about her, he just cared about his clan and reproducing.

Graystreak leaned forward and brushed his chapped lips across Kalasin's forehead, whispering nonsense about how lovely she looked, whether or not her hair was cropped short and she wore men's clothing. Brushing his lips against her soft skin, nearing her mouth, he paused when someone cleared their throat behind him. Groaning, he pushed away from Kalasin and looked into deep brown eyes. "What is it?"

"Master Graystreak, a few of our lookouts have disappeared and we caught one hurrok," the male from the previous night replied.

Sighing, Graystreak backed away from Kalasin and nodded to the other centaur before exiting. As he left the room, he gasped in horror as to the sight that lay before him. Bodies of both men and immortals lay dispersed upon soiled ground. A scream caught the centaur's attention, and turning towards the noise he witnessed arrows flying into the flesh of the female immortal, one of his kin.

Blood pooled out of her body as she fell to her knees still screaming in agony. Pulling out a sword from the belt that hung at his waist, he trotted over to the female and ended her pain with one quick movement. His blood boiled as he saw a few more of his kind fighting off raiders and immortals alike. His body went numb as he charged the oncoming enemy, his body and mind not recognizing that he was being pelted with arrows. All he could think about was chopping those filthy two-legers in half.

The brown-haired immortal gazed at Kalasin, hiding his emotions from her as he walked towards her, ignoring her look of panic and fear. Holding out his hand to her, he let a smile settle upon his pink lips, "We must get you out of here, girl, you and your horse. We're under attack and greatly outnumbered so there's no hope for survival, well, not for me at least, but for you there still lies hope. I wish you to take that gown as a token of my appreciation for your service to me. You didn't have to heal me, yet you did when I treated you poorly." Lowering his head, he clenched his fists, "I won't make that mistake again. Now, come, you must leave."

Kalasin was taken aback by this new show of emotion, "What about you? Will you leave too?"

The centaur shook his head and smiled, gazing into her blue orbs, "No. I will stay and fight and die by my kin's side."

"You can't fight alone! You mustn't!"

"Girl, you have courage, but you have no brains, so forgive me for this."

Without further warning, the immortal reared up and struck Kalasin on her collarbone, inflicting enough pain for her to faint. Carefully, he picked her up and set her onto his back, then grabbed her things. Rushing out of the wood enclosure, he dashed off towards a picket fence where Mavaiya awaited them.

Settling the girl and her things onto the mare, the centaur smacked the horse's rump to send her off down a trail leading south, around the gathering enemy. Watching the white horse disappear, the immortal pulled out his sword and ran as fast and hard as he could towards the enemy while letting out a war cry.

Thrusting himself at the humans before him, the immortal whipped out a long heavy sword and swung it around his body, the blade slicing through unprotected flesh and spraying blood into the creature's face. In front of him, he saw a blue roan body collapse into the mud, a spear through the sensitive area where horse and man flesh combined. Not seeing the tall figure stride up beside him, the centaur gasped as his brown eyes widened. Looking down he saw blood trickling from his chest caused by a dagger that penetrated his body. Soon all he saw was darkness but not before seeing eerily glowing red-yellow eyes.

* * *

_Red eyes flecked with brown and yellow flashed wildly at a petite figure clad in dirt and bloodstained clothing. A sword that glimmered like the morning sun swung around the figure's head before slicing at the wild-eyed creature. The sword-wielder, dressed like a lad, was really a girl in disguise, realized Kalasin as she squinted to see clearer. The girl had ebon hair like Kalasin herself and piercing blue eyes. 'That _is_ me!' Kalasin thought, wide-eyed at what she was seeing, 'but it can't be. The girl's hair is longer, and even under the clothes you can see a woman's figure.' _

_The woman tightened her grip on the hilt of the blade and lunged at the wild-eyed being, stumbling and twisting around to have her body perforated by a beam of crimson light with yellow bolts of lightning dancing upon its length. Gasping for air, the woman dropped her weapon to the ground and brought her hands up to the large wound in her chest. With a nauseous expression to her face, the woman closed her blue eyes as her complexion paled._

_Kalasin gasped in horror and ran over to the woman's side. Catching the now dead warrior before she fell face-first into the ground, Kalasin laid her aside gently and placed her hands delicately around the wound. Deep inside herself Kalasin searched, easily finding that pool of hot liquid fire. Grabbing armfuls of it at a time she urged it on, sending it through the wound. "No! You cannot die! Not while there is still breath within my body, not while I still possess the gift to heal will anyone else die before me!" _

_"You!" shrieked a masculine voice that came from behind. "You-I killed you! Why are you not dead! I don't understand this!"_

_Looking over her shoulder, Kalasin's fiery azure orbs gazed into burning red orbs. Now, instead of a shadow surrounding the eyes, she saw skin, and an actual figure. The haunting eyes belonged to a man who had fair skin and white-blonde hair. His nose was long and thin and his lips were pink and full. He had no visible muscle, but his build was attractive nonetheless, and it rendered his overall appearance almost pretty._

_Taking a step forward, the man held out his hand, his finger pointing at Kalasin. As he muttered some words of a spell, Kalasin wasted no time in scrambling away from where she was; she knew very well that when a mage pointed at you, you had to run away or you'd be killed by the bolt that would strike from their finger or hand._

_Tightening her grip on the hilt of the fallen's sword, Kalasin ran at her foe, sending a prayer to Mithros for strength and to the Goddess for protection. Raising the sword high above her head, the princess cried out. A bolt of red and yellow magic enveloped her as the blade came crashing down upon the mage who let out a roar of laughter, his eyes penetrating Kalasin's mind, heart, and soul, destroying everything she had. "You will die, Kalasin of Conté, and then I will kill your family and everyone you love, leaving the throne of Tortall to be ruled by me, and I will be the most powerful being in all the kingdoms!" cried a voice that was neither masculine or feminine._

"No!" Kalasin cried out, her deep blue eyes shooting open. A thin sheet of perspiration had formed over her body and was chilling her in the night's breeze. Gazing at the sky overhead, she saw the moon shining brightly. "It, it was just a dream," she breathed, suddenly feeling overly exposed and drained of energy.

* * *

Lerant of Eldorne, a standard-bearer and soldier in the King's Own made his way to the river near camp in order to refill his flask. The morning was chilly and a small breeze was blowing as the sun made its way overhead. Walking up to the river's edge, Lerant crouched down and dipped the flask into the water, letting it fill up as he looked around.

"Lerant! Hurry up with the water!" yelled someone from their camp site.

"I'm coming! Give me a minute will you!" he yelled back as he pulled the flask from the river.

Setting the container aside, Lerant dipped his hands into the water and splashed a bit of liquid on his face. As he wiped off, his eyes scanned down the river to either side of him and finally rested on a horse and rider approaching the water. Slowly he moved behind a bush and withdrew his knife, his brown eyes never leaving the rider's figure.

Kalasin, unaware that she was being watched gazed at the river, her eyes glazed over as if she were dreaming. Slowly, she went to dismount the mare, but lost her grip and hit the frigid cold water. Though her mind was racing as fear and panic made their way through her insides, her body refused to respond to her commands. Down she sank as if she were made of stone, the last breaths of air leaving her lungs as her surroundings darkened around her.

Lerant stared at the spot where the rider fell into the water, his sudden cautiousness leaving him. Running to the river's edge, he waded knee-deep into the water, fighting the current that seemed to be picking up and growing stronger.

Kalasin felt herself hit the solid earth at the bottom of the stream and gathered the last bit of strength left in her body. Clenching her fists, the girl slammed her feet against the rocky terrain and pushed off towards the topside of the water.

A hand near Lerant shot up out of the water. As soon as he heard the choked scream that followed, without hesitation, he dove into the icy water and swam towards the river's victim. Only when he grasped Kalasin's hand did he notice a fatal mistake. The river was carrying them swiftly away; he had underestimated the strength of the current.

Swearing, Lerant pulled the girl against his chest as they neared Doom Falls, a waterfall that had jagged, sharp rocks at its base. No one who had ever gone down the fall survived. Lerant prayed to the gods as he held the girl close and clenched his eyes shut, the current still growing in strength as the sound of the waterfall became audible.

Slowly Kalasin opened her blue eyes as she felt her body dropping. Still unaware of what was happening, she gazed at Lerant as their bodies made contact with the water. Kalasin felt the air get knocked from her lungs as her petite body hit sand. Next to her, Lerant who had also gotten the wind knocked out of him, stayed unmoving, blood from his body staining the water.

Without a moment's hesitation, Kalasin grabbed a hold of him and pushed off the ground. Surfacing with the boy, she gasped for air, replenishing her lungs and body with oxygen as the current carried them towards land. Once they were fully out of the river's reach on the shore, Kalasin sat down next to her patient and let her magic spill over him. First she pushed the water from his body and lungs and brought oxygen to them to keep him breathing, then she went on with examining his wounds. When they had fallen and reached the base of the waterfall, Lerant had hit his arm on a rock and cracked a rib. The arm was the worst; the bone had broken in two different areas and cracked in a third. A gash that continued to bleed was deep and nearly hit muscle. The rib was easier to repair, along with the mending of bruises. Once done with her healing, Kalasin's eyes fluttered shut as her body went limp and landed next to Lerant's.

* * *

When she awoke, Kalasin found herself covered up with a warm, heavy shirt that smelled of campfire smoke. Sitting up, the girl let the shirt slide to her lap as she gazed about. What she saw was a topless man poking at a small fire. His muscles bulged slightly each time he moved to re-arrange the sticks to keep the fire lasting. His skin was marked with a fading summer's tan and his mass of chocolate brown hair fell into his face periodically.

Standing up slowly, the girl made her way over to the fire where Lerant sat staring into the flames. Holding out the shirt to him, Kalasin's stomach did flips when he looked up at her with his deep brown eyes. Forcing herself to not stare, Kalasin glanced down at her feet when Lerant took his shirt back. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"For what? Saving you or covering you up?"

"Well, both, I suppose, though I saved you too," retorted the girl who was taken aback by his tone of voice.

A moment of silence passed before Lerant nodded, "It's an even trade, then. I went to save you, and then you did your healing on me which probably saved my life." He smiled, his facial features softening and causing the princess's stomach to do more flips. "You were in the middle of healing me, I think, when I woke up and saw you. Startled me a bit, it did, but I waited until you were done before moving. I found some wood near the edge of the forest over there and made as good a fire as possible. There are no fish around either. I checked after covering you up, since you were shivering."

Kalasin gazed into those dark pools of his, her own azure orbs twinkling. "What's my rescuer's name, if he doesn't mind me asking?"

"Lerant of the King's Own, if it pleases milady."

Frowning, Kalasin looked down and saw the damp shirt she wore clung to her skin, showing off every curve of her body. "And what is milady's name?" asked Lerant, not taking a notice to the upset look on Kalasin's face.

"...Can I trust you Lerant of the King's Own?"

Confused, Lerant nodded, "...Yes..."

Taking a seat next to the boy, Kalasin folded her hands together, "I'm Kalasin."

Smiling, Lerant tossed a stick into the fire, "Named after the princess huh?"

Sighing in relief, Kalasin nodded, "Just please-"

"I won't tell anyone who you are, Princess, but it's getting late so you should sleep."

Dumbfounded, Kalasin opened her mouth to ask how he knew, but Lerant placed a finger over her lips, his eyes holding hers. "Thanks to being in the Own, I've been to Court enough times to recognize you milady, even if you dress in boy's clothes and chop off your hair. You're a Conté through and through and no one will be able to cover that up, trust me, I know what it's like to not be able to get rid of who you are, no matter what. Besides, if anything, your gift for healing gives you away. You have a reputation for being one of the best healers next to milord Duke Baird. Now tell me one thing, Princess Kalasin, why are you doing this?"

"Just Kalasin if you please, Sir Lerant, and I do this because it is my duty. I want to fight beside my people or lead them to battle. My dream was to be a knight but my parents, though they thought it a valiant idea of mine, refused to have my life risked in war."

"You sound like Lady Knight Keladry when you say it is your duty." A smile lingered on his lips momentarily before he took on a serious, commanding air. "Well then, Kalasin, get some sleep and we'll have fun in the morning."

* * *

**AN:** Sorry it took so long to update, I've had a family reunion and a wedding to attend. I hope you like this chapter! I tried making it longer and I got stuck at different points. I know it's not the best one, but I promise, soon, a whole bunch of romance and action will take place (and that's when the rating may change). 


	6. Chapter 5

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited By:** Buttons7

**Summery:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking  
_blah_ Dreaming

* * *

Jonathan of Conté, the well-known ruler of all Tortall, paled as he read and re-read the parchment. For the first time in a long time, he felt utterly and depressingly powerless. His beloved eldest daughter Kalasin had slipped out of the protection of their home as easily as she might walk out a door. She was heading straight to the heart of battle without a penny's worth of knowledge of fighting! All she knew was how to ride and tack a horse, heal, and maybe even polish weapons along with armor.

She was no warrior, she was a princess. Kalasin of Conté was a noble inside and out. Nobles didn't stand a chance trying to blend in, especially one who never had the experience of the real world, of poverty. Kalasin had a huge heart, and seeing the unshielded truth would burn her like hot coals, boiling her blood with fury and pity, though, perhaps because of her kindness and willingness to understand things and help, she might have a chance. She might come back alive out of the death-trap she had entered.

* * *

Roald paced in his room, continuously testing the windows and doors for escape routes, but everything had been magicked to keep him inside. Closing his azure eyes, he plopped down onto his feathery bed and ran the events through his mind.

_He glowered at Merric when he had refused to go after Kalasin. Standing up as straight as he could manage, he took on the air of someone with authority and smirked devilishly as he thought to himself, 'this will get them to listen to me, this will work'. "I order you and Gamba to go after her. I have other soldiers to look after me so you two will not be needed, I guarantee it," he said matter of factly._

_Clenching his fists until they were white-knuckled, Roald felt his temper escaping his firm hold. Merric had refused so easily, having the nerve to say that he would not listen to him since someone frightened him more! Quickly, Roald stormed off down the stairs when Gamba came out with their things packed up. _

_Protests came from behind him as others, mainly their fellow soldiers, glanced at them with questioning looks. Marching out the door and taking off in a run at the sight of the stables, he had stopped momentarily when something flashed in the corner of his eye. Looking off to the side, he caught a glimpse of a white horse carrying a shadowed figure south of the inn and Corus. 'Kalasin, you fool!' his mind screamed as his feet hit the earth when he broke off at a run once again. _

_"Roald, we can't follow! She's heading south where the fighting is heaviest and most dangerous!" he heard Gamba say in alarm._

_"We _have_ to follow her," he replied sternly._

_The stable boy had seen them and fetched their mounts, which were waiting for them when they reached the stable. Levelling himself in the saddle of a sturdy bay gelding, Roald glanced back at his companions, his gaze lingering on Merric who was gazing up at the sky with pale blue eyes. 'He's praying,' the boy thought and then sent a prayer of his own to the gods._

"Stupid Merric," spat Roald as he came out of his memories. "If he hadn't knocked me out, we would have reached Kalasin by now and brought her safely home! She wouldn't be dead-" he stopped himself and bit his lip. "No, my sister's not dead. I have faith in her, I have to, and I believe even if her body dies, her spirit will refuse to rest until the task she's seeking is done with. That's how she is, stubborn as a conservative."

* * *

Thayet of Conté ran long slender fingers through her raven hair. Resting a hand on her husband's arm, she opened her mouth to speak and then closed it. Gripping the letter that she had read along with her husband, she took it from his grip and set it down on the table before them. Opening her mouth again she spoke quietly, "Kalasin is a strong girl, Jon. We can't reveal to anyone that she's ours or it'll put her as well as Tortall in a bigger threat than is necessary. She is intelligent and had truly thought about this when she said not to send anyone after her. If we go against her wish, we'd just be saying to our enemies that our daughter is out there alone, waiting to be captured and gods knows what else for ransom!"

She paused as her voice started to crack, a lump forming in her throat and tears threatening to spill. "You have to be cool and level-headed now more than ever. I don't want to send word to even Raoul or Alanna; you never know who could be spying. We still have our other children to think of, anyway, so we mustn't hang on the idea that Kalasin will die, because she won't. She's a Conté and _my_ child. She will make it Jon, I know in my heart that she will."

* * *

Kalasin closed her eyes, attempting to go to sleep as Lerant had commanded her to, but though her body was worn out, her mind wasn't. Thoughts of family, of what to do next, and of Lerant flooded her head. It seemed like hours passed by before Kalasin heard a light snoring from nearby; Lerant must be asleep, the girl realized. As she sat up, a blinding light shone. Yelling, Kalasin shaded her eyes until the light died down to a glow. Cautiously she removed her arm from her face and glared when she saw the great god Mithros standing before her. 'He's so handsome,' thought the Princess as she scowled. "What do you want?"

Raising a thick brown brow, Mithros gave a questioning look to Kalasin before shaking his head. "I have a gift for you, and I cannot stray away from my realms long," he said with worry and sadness in his voice. "Hold out your hands," the great god commanded.

Doing as she was bid, Kalasin held out small soft hands, palms upright. Another blinding flash occurred, causing the girl to see spots. Once her vision cleared, she gasped and stared in awe at the sword she held. It was light-weight so that she could wield it easily; the blade was sturdy and glowed an eerie pale blue. On the blade were markings that she was unable to understand. The handle was pure gold and the design was extensive. "This is beautiful!" she cried, carefully setting the sword down before running to the god and throwing herself at him.

Taken aback, Mithros looked down at the little girl who hugged him tightly, a warmth growing in his chest. Smiling, he loosened her grip and then knelt down a little so he was nearly her height. Small tears ran down Kalasin's soft, ivory cheeks as the god ran a rough hand through the girl's ebony locks. "Kalasin, my small warrior, I give this sword to you in hopes that it will protect you. Our realm was overthrown and my brothers and sisters, along with myself, struggle to gain our kingdom back.

Soon you will encounter this evil and come to fully understand your task. You are our only hope, my little one. Lead these people to victory, let no one stand in your way and may my gift to you protect you in the thickest of hardships."

Kalasin's lower lip quivered slightly as emotions ranging from awe to fury boiled in her stomach. Tilting her head so her cheek was resting on the god's rough hand, the Princess forced a smile before taking his hand in her two small, delicate ones and standing up straight. Closing her eyes she fell inside herself, dipping her hands into the hot liquid fire that burned inside of her.

Unsure of what she was doing, the god watched her curiously and patiently, his piercing brown eyes never leaving her figure. 'She was born to do this,' he thought to himself, 'born to lead, born to wield the sword I made and poured my power into, born to be a-'

"With my whole self, heart, body, and soul, I wish you victory Great Mithros, I wish you strength, and I wish you happiness," interrupted Kalasin's whispers.

Mithros's eyes widened as he felt a coolness slide into his body. "How-no. No, this cannot be! No mere mortal is supposed to be able to give a _god_ energy like this!"

Flinching at the pain his voice was causing her, Kalasin bit her lip until it bled to keep her concentration. She wanted her friend and superior to have a chance in battle, she wanted to help but knew she couldn't travel to where he was encased, so this was the best she could do; give him her energy, give him her strength, give him her heart.

Seeing the girl's color pale, the god yanked his hand from her and held out his arms as her body fell limp. "You've used up too much of yourself Kalasin," he said softly as he lay her carefully on the ground and set the sword near her, but not where she could cut herself if she hit it. Crouching down by her, his brown orbs studied her carefully. People would underestimate her, which would be their fatal mistake. "They will see you as a child, not the goddess that you are, Kalasin, not the way I see you." With that, the great god bent over and brushed his lips against hers, "sleep well," he said softly before disappearing.

* * *

**AN: **Alright, so this was suppose to have more romance and gore, but I've hit a brick wall temporarily so I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. I have made my way around the brick wall however, so expect a chapter soon :) if my mother gives me time on the computer...she's being a snot right now.


	7. Chapter 6

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited By:** Buttons7

**Summary:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking  
_blah_ Dreaming

* * *

"So, the girl survived the waterfall," said a liquid voice, "she's tougher than I expected, however, she will be no match for me! As soon as I kill her for attempting to oppose me, I will take the throne of Tortall."

Two round, red-brown eyes gazed into a pool of water at the image of a petite black-haired figure. The water rippled and the image faded until all that could be seen was the viewer's own reflection. Full pink lips curled up into a cruel smile. "Kalasin of Conté, you're mine," the voice said as a hand balled into a fist.

* * *

A groan of protest emitted from Kalasin as a rather annoying shaking refused to stop. "What?" she asked, as her eyes opened to see Lerant hovering over her. He had been shaking her to wake her up and after a few moments it had finally worked.

Putting a finger to his lips, the boy pointed next to them, covering Kalasin's mouth when she opened it to scream. His dark brown eyes worriedly looked at Kalasin as he bent down closer to her, his lips brushing against his ear. "That was a bandit scout I found sneaking around over here. I knocked him out when he came near enough to me. We have to get back to the Own, Kalasin, we just have to," he whispered. "If we don't, we'll be no match for the rest of them; we have no weapons."

Remembering Mithros' words from his speech to her last night, Kalasin glanced beside her and slipped her hand onto the hilt of the sword. "We do have a weapon, Lerant. If it comes to that, at least we'll be able to fight but, for now, let's get back to our friends."

Nodding in agreement, Lerant grabbed Kalasin's small hand and pulled her up with him. Not waiting a moment longer he took off at a run, towing the Princess along. "We have to climb," he said, his voice throaty, "since there is no other way to escape."

"I know," the girl said as she looked behind her, the area where they camped for the night becoming smaller and smaller as they neared the cliff.

"If we get seen while we're climbing, we'll be sitting ducks with no where to go."

The Princess, who was now breathing heavily, nodded, concentrating on keeping her feet moving at a fast pace. Once they reached the wall, Lerant let her hand slip from his as they both found spots to put their feet and hands. They pushed off from the ground, Kalasin a breath behind Lerant. Carefully, yet quickly, they searched for grooves for their hands and feet, expanding the distance between themselves and the ground.

Lerant was now fully in front of Kalasin, searching for a spot where they could rest. His hands were aching as well as his toes, and he knew that Kalasin wasn't in any better shape. She wasn't used to labor, as he was from being in the Own, so her delicate skin would be protesting against this rough treatment. Grasping a piece of rock, Lerant pulled his body up, blinking when he saw an area worn away to create what looked like the mouth of a cave. It was big enough to hold them both and they would be able to rest a while here.

Smiling at his discovery, Lerant pulled himself up a bit more before climbing onto the ledge. Laying his body on the ground, he inched near the edge and held his hand down to Kalasin who was struggling with exhaustion. "Grab my hand, Kalasin."

Looking up, Kalasin shook her head and slipped her booted foot into a groove. Using that as leverage, she pushed herself up and grabbed hold of a rock, closing the space between herself and Lerant's waiting hand. Carefully she reached up with her own hand and slipped it into his, feeling comfort in his firm grip.

By the time she was pulled up to the ledge, her cheeks were flushed and her hair fell into her eyes. The sky was growing dark and the air became chilly. The girl's body ached in protest to the harsh treatment it had received. Feeling exhausted, Kalasin looked out beyond the niche in which she sat and blinked several times. Where she Lerant had been camped out, a group of twenty or thirty people were roaming, setting up a camp of their own while a few went to scout the area.

Lerant moved up next to Kalasin, gazing at the sight below them. Shaking his head he sighed in relief, "We'll be safe here for tonight, but we'll have to press on and pray that they don't spot us. It would be best to leave now but there's no moon out tonight, so it will be dark and hard to see where to step, and also you're drained, and need rest."

Nodding, the Princess crawled to the back of the secluded cave and leaned against the stone wall, adjusting herself until she was comfortable. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander as thoughts ran in and out of her head.

Lerant, when he was sure the girl was slumbering, made his way to the back of the inlet. Sitting next to the girl, he looked over to her, his brown eyes taking in her features. She was quite attractive with full lips and a small, straight nose. Her skin was flawless, no blemishes could be spotted, and her long dark lashes accentuated her eyes. Lifting his hand, Lerant ran the backs of his fingers over her soft cheek, a smile crossing his lips.

Tilting her head so that it now rested against his hand--he had re-positioned it when he noticed her moving her head--she ran her tongue across her dried lips. "Lerant, can I ask you something?"

Her voice, it was like music to his ears, and the way she re-moistened her lips...Shaking his head at his thoughts, he responded to her, "You just did, but go ahead and ask another question." Seeing her wrinkle her nose at his answer made him grin.

"When you figured out who I was, you said that you knew what it was like to never be able to change who you were...remember?" Hearing a faint "yes" from him, she continued. "What did you mean by that?"

His expression, which had been so happy moments ago, faded into a sour one. 'Why does she care?' he wondered to himself as he remained silent for a minute. Withdrawing his hand from her cheek, he let it slip into his lap and closed his eyes, thinking back a good ten years, give or take a few.

"My aunt was Delia of Eldorne. She was crazy, you know, and because of her treason to the Crown, all others have mistreated my family. No one wants to be in ill favor of the Crown, and so when I tried to be accepted for knighthood, I was turned away. No one would take me under their wing for fear of the reputation that traveled with me."

His eyes glazed over as his body tensed at the bitter memory. "People talked behind my back, whispering about the past of Delia. She would get made fun of as an insult to me. I tried to not listen to them, I tried to run away from it all, but every where I went, that wench's bad reputation followed."

Taking a breath, he continued, "Then, when I was turned down from trying for my knighthood, I met Sir Raoul. He saw who _I_ was, not what my Aunt did. He let me be a standard-bearer for the King's Own. I do know how to fight, though I don't have the proper training. I had to deal with people whispering about me for quite some time after joining the Own, but it eventually stopped and the members of the Own grew respect for me during battles and whatnot. I pitch my own weight, I'm able to keep up with the others, and I'm not afraid to die for someone I care about. I took arrows for Sir Raoul, you know."

Kalasin, who was now watching him with interest as emotions of pity and anger flashed in her eyes, smiled and tilted her head slightly. "No wonder you understand. I'm sorry for what happened to you, but at least you're with good people now."

"What would you care anyway? You're a _Princess_, an heiress to the throne. My relative tried to kill your father, Kalasin, doesn't that bother you?"

"No," she said softly, frowning at the thought that she wouldn't care. "It doesn't bother me one bit. You aren't her, and you're faithful to the Crown or else you would have killed me in my sleep. Instead, you're helping to save me and let me fulfill my destiny."

Startled by her taking his hand in both of hers, he opened his eyes and stared into her mesmerizing gaze. 'She's so unusual...judging people as they are and by their actions, not by the actions of others. She cares about anyone and everyone, not just herself,' he thought.

Leaning towards him, Kalasin smiled, her eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I'd want to be with anyone else other than you right now, Lerant. You're kind, courageous, intelligent..." She let her voice trail off just before she closed the distance between them, pressing her lips against his.

Momentarily stunned, Lerant just stared at her when she closed her eyes as their lips met. Warmth filled his insides, spreading throughout his body as he responded to the kiss, his hand still in her now shaking ones. 'She's nervous,' he realized as he moved his free hand up to the side of her cheek.

Kalasin felt her whole body go wobbly at his touch. She didn't know why she was doing this, only that she wanted to. It felt right, and it felt _good_. Her stomach felt like it had butterflies fluttering about, trying to escape, but the fluttering stopped when Lerant slowly pulled away. A knot formed in her throat, 'am I doing something wrong, or am I not as good as the girls at Court? Has he even been with anyone before?' she found herself wondering as her eyes drifted open to find him gazing at her, his cheeks flushed.

Blushing, the girl looked away from him, muttering an apology.

Lerant shook his head at her folly. Grasping her two hands tightly, he pulled her closer and met her lips when she turned to look at him, confused as to what he was doing. This time, unlike last, he kissed her deeply, running his hand through her hair as his body made it obvious he wanted more than a kiss.


	8. Chapter 7

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited By:** Buttons7

**Summery:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking  
_blah_ Dreaming

* * *

Lerant opened his brown eyes when he felt the sun's rays shining on him. Looking down he saw Kalasin's head resting on his lap. Smiling, he brushed a piece of stray hair away from her face and carefully supported her head as he slid out from under her. They had shared a few more kisses that night before holding eachother in silence.

Many things had passed between them in those long hours, a strong bond developing between them when their emotions got carried away. They knew how the other felt, and how it felt to be helpless, though Kalasin knew more of that feeling than Lerant. He, unlike most, understood why Kalasin was doing this and would help her along if he could. Lastly, she gave him a silent promise that she would defend him against the world if word got out of his help.

Crawling out to the edge of their shelter, Lerant looked to where the bandits had camped, and, to his surprise, found not a single one. Looking over to his right, he spotted movement in the woods. There they were, traveling through the depths of the forest in order to find a way around the steep cliff. 'Now would be a good time to get to the top before they did,' thought the man.

Turning around, he immediately clutched the wall beside him before he could topple over. His surroundings spun as he felt sick to his stomach. A low grumble emitted from his abdomen, telling Lerant that he needed food. 'Not yet,' he thought with a frown, inching towards the slumbering girl.

* * *

Kalasin groaned as her limbs began to throb from the strain climbing put on them. She didn't know how Lerant had done it, but somehow he had convinced Kalasin that reaching the top of the cliff, which to her dismay involved much more climbing, was better than waiting until the air wasn't so hot.

Beads of sweat formed on the girl's skin, her clothes, sticking to her body, felt damp. The sun was beating down on them as they continued to climb. An hour, then two went by as both took care in the placement of their hands and feet. Kalasin bit down on her lips as her hands grew moist, making it hard to grip anything. 'Please gods, don't let me slip and fall,' she thought as she pushed herself up.

* * *

A long, bony finger ran down the page of an aged book. Only those who knew the language of the Old Ones could read this; it was a spell telling how to destroy the gates that separated the Gods' realm from the humans' realm. Muttering the spell, the red-eyed mage grinned as the earth shook mercilessly. "It is done, the gates that the Gods had replaced are now shattered. Soon, I will lead the immortals in a second battle, but I will be victorious!"

* * *

Kalasin screamed as she clenched her eyes shut. She was sure she'd fall off now, but something grabbed hold of her and pulled her onto solid, shaking ground. Slowly, as the tremors became less and less, the girl opened her eyes and gazed at Lerant's worried face. Smiling she stood up with his help. They had made it to the top and were close to their friends now.

Onward they ran, passing trees and shrubs as their feet hit the earth. By the time they reached a clearing, both Lerant and Kalasin were well out of breath. Gazing down the path that led away from where the two first met, Lerant tugged on Kalasin's tunic sleeve and pointed, still too out of breath to speak.

Understanding what he meant, Kalasin nodded as she followed him, breathing heavily. Her lungs felt as if they were on fire, while the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, her skin crawling. Something wasn't right about this place; there should be animals chattering and making noises.

A sudden stench interrupted Kalasin's thoughts, a frown appearing on her face. Looking up into the sky, the girl caught sight of creatures with metal wings. 'Stormwings,' she thought to herself, as she continued to look at them while she walked. Stormwings were a type of immortal created to foul the dead in order to discourage war. Stormwings had a human head and chest, bird legs, and steel feathers, claws and teeth. Kalasin shuddered as an image of human carcasses being torn apart by stormwings came to mind.

Feeling something catch on her booted foot, she was awoken from her thoughts. Stumbling, the girl landed on her hands and knees, scowling. A cackle from above made the girl look up. A female stormwing was circling overhead as two others flew higher up. The stormwing had big brown eyes and blonde hair that draped over her shoulders and covered her chest. 'If she weren't a monster, she'd be almost beautiful,' the girl thought.

Ignoring the immortal, Kalasin looked around until her gaze settled on Lerant. He had stopped dead in his tracks, and was ghostly pale. 'What's with him?' Struggling as she tried to stand upright, a voice rang into the air.

"Look below you child, and see what tripped you," said the female stormwing.

Unsure as to why she was listening to a monster, Kalasin looked down. To her horror, she had tripped on a body. She was able to tell it was a soldier from the Own, due to the insignia on the uniform. His throat had been slashed open, and was the cause of his death. His face was pale and bloated, streaked with mud and dried blood.

Kalasin's stomach leapt into her throat as the girl discovered there were more bodies, most of which belonged to raiders. Looking at the female stormwing, the girl grimaced as she took a deep breath. "That horrible shaking earlier, what was that?"

The blonde tilted her head, an amused look appearing on her face. "That was the gates that separated the realms being shattered. Soon you humans will have a second war of immortals to deal with. Right now, thousands of Immortals are crossing where the gate once stood, entering into these lands, and causing _chaos_."

"Is that why there are no animal sounds?" asked Kalasin.

"My, aren't you the curious one. The animals are in hiding. They fear immortals, and they wait for their arrival." The stormwing's eyes flashed towards the sword hanging at Kalasin's hip. 'It's glowing.' "Wielder of the God's Sword, I am Arianna Sharp-wing. May our paths cross on friendly terms in the future."

Kalasin watched as Arianna Sharp-wing flew up to meet the other two stormwings that were waiting for her. Off they flew, Arianna Sharp-wing waiting a moment, her eyes fixed on Kalasin's, before disappearing into the distance. 'Everyone always says stormwings are horrid creatures, but they aren't that bad. They can't help what they are.'

Lerant slowly came out of his daze, trembling. Walking over to Kalasin, being careful as to where he stepped, he laid a hand on her shoulder, "We should get going."

Nodding, Kalasin tried to smile but found she couldn't. As she followed Lerant, she noticed most of the dead looked like bandits; their clothes were soiled and ragged, their bodies were rather boney, and their weapons weren't of good quality.

Lerant let out a sigh of relief once they came within sight of Fort Mastiff. Turning around so that he was facing Kalasin, Lerant grabbed the hem of her tunic and tugged a bit. The tunic, which had clung to Kalasin's form, was now laying straight, and hid the evidence that she was female.

Kalasin took a deep breath before walking behind Lerant up to the fort's massive door. A voice rang into the air asking their business.

"I'm Lerant from the King's Own. I'm a standard-bearer and had become separated from my group. Tell me sir, is Lord Raoul behind that wall?"

The men guarding the wall exchanged glances and then opened the gates slowly, admitting Lerant and Kalasin. The one that had asked them their business walked over to them, frowning. "Who is this with you, Lerant?"

"The boy I saved from dying. His name's Kal," said Lerant with a wink towards Kalasin.

"Come, follow me," the man said as he led them to the barracks. With a glance back at Lerant, the man knocked firmly on a wooden door before stepping aside.

Kalasin stared at the bald-headed man who opened the door. The right side of his face was scarred from an immortal's attack. He had saved the youngest princes and princess, Kalasin's brothers and sister. "Lord Wyldon," she breathed as his gaze passed over Lerant and settled on her.

* * *

**AN:** Sorry if I don't update for a while, or if this chapter isn't up to par with my other chapters. I have gone a week without a break from severe pain (if I move, I get a migraine). Also, sorry that I haven't updated in a while so you wonderful people had to wait so long.

This last part is to Strata: Thanks for the reviews and I'm glad you like it. Yes, their kiss did seem sudden, however, they understand eachother's feelings and being alone with the opposite sex (both seemingly very attractive) kind of gets the hormones flowing ;)


	9. Chapter 8

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited By:** buttons7

**Summary:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking  
_blah_ Dreaming

* * *

Lord Wyldon of Cavall gazed into the deep blue eyes of the lad that accompanied Lerant. About to speak, he snapped his mouth shut when he was pushed out of the way by a large burly man. Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak stepped into view. He had short, curly black hair, almost black eyes, and a broad, ruddy face. 

"Lerant! It's good to see you're alright," he said seriously as he rested his hand on Lerant's shoulder. "We had heard a scream, and ran over to where you walked off, but we were too late. When we arrived at the river's edge, you were already too far away to be safely rescued. We-we thought you were dead, Lerant."

Kalasin, who had been returning Lord Wyldon's gaze, looked at Raoul. His eyes showed the emotions he was feeling; relief that Lerant was alright, worry that he had been in danger, or worse, and a love for the boy. 'He sees him as a son,' the girl realized, shocked that this great hero could be so affectionate towards people.

Raoul continued, "You must be in the favor of the gods in order to have survived that fall, Learnt. No one has ever survived it!"

"My Lord," Lerant said softly, bowing his head. "It just wasn't our time to enter the Black God's realm-" A low rumbling interrupted Lerant whose cheeks turned pink.

"Go fetch some food from the mess hall, and once you're done eating, come back here. I wish to talk more with you, only you," replied Raoul with a glance towards Kalasin.

"Yes, my Lord," Lerant replied with a bow.

Kalasin bowed sloppily, before following Lerant towards the large building that served as the mess hall. With a quick glance back at the two men, she gulped. Both were staring at her intently, questioning looks on their faces as if they knew her but couldn't figure out how.

"He looks a lot like Prince Roald, doesn't he, Raoul?" asked Wyldon.

The large man nodded, his black eyes not leaving the boy's figure. "I'll bring it up to Lerant when he returns," was the simple reply.

Kalasin's eyes widened when she entered the mess hall, staying close to Lerant. Everyone in the room fell silent, turning to get a good look at the two new arrivals. Lerant seemed to not notice the change in the people, but Kalasin did. She no longer felt like a young lady, but a small child.

* * *

Roald's eyes flicked towards the door when it opened, the scent of freshly made biscuits reaching his nose. 'Now's my chance,' he thought as a dainty girl slowly walked in, concentrating on not spilling the tray of food. Swiftly, the Prince walked up to the girl. Muttering an apology, he pushed her to the floor. The tray clattered on the ground, landing next to a stunned maid. His exit was unblocked, he was free. 

Sauntering out into the hallway, Roald smiled victoriously. The path ahead of him was dimly lit, and soundless. Behind him, in the room where dinners were held, laughter, and talk were audible. Soon he found himself running towards the stables, away from yelling guards.

Entering the wooden building, Roald went straight to his horse's stall. The gelding was bay colored with a white sock. His mane and tail were as black as Roald's hair. The yelling was growing closer as the Prince quickly secured the saddle onto his mount. "Come on, boy," the Prince said, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he led the gelding out of the stall. Mounting up, Roald lightly kicked the horse as the door to the stables burst open. The soldiers ran inside, only to watch the horse and rider avoid capture, and head towards the forest. "I'm coming, Kalasin," muttered Roald as he urged his gelding onward.

* * *

Kalasin watched Lerant walk out of the mess hall when he finished his meal. They had eaten at a vacant table, and the talk, which had stopped when they first entered the building slowly resumed. Now she sat alone, feeling a bit sick from not eating in two or three days. 'I'm not hungry,' she thought scolding her stomach, which let out a groan. 

"Eat this, it's actually good."

Kalasin jumped slightly, staring at the dumpling being offered to her. Looking up, she saw the one who offered the food was a dark skinned man. 'A Bazhir, no doubt,' she thought to herself as she further looked him over. He had short dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, and wore a loose white cotton shirt.

"No, thank you," she replied quietly, looking away from his piercing gaze.

"A small lad like you should eat. How else will you grow? Besides, your stomach wants the food," he said with a nod towards Kalasin's growling belly.

Taking the dumpling with a shaking hand, she carefully bit into it. Surprised by the wonderful taste, she continued to eat it, watching as the Bazhir sat down across from her.

"You're the one we nearly lost Lerant for?"

A small blush covered Kalasin's cheeks as she nodded. "Yes, sir," she replied after swallowing a mouthful of dumpling.

"I'm Qasim. Welcome to Mastiff," he said kindly.

"Thank you. It really is an impressive fort. I've not seen one before."

"If you like this, you'll really like New Hope. The Lady Knight Keladry is in charge there. You'll most likely end up there by tomorrow," he said, adding in, "it's a place for refugees," when she gave him a questioning look.

"I'm not going to a refugee hold, I'm going to battle where I belong."

A laugh erupted from Qasim and nearby listeners. "Leave the fighting to soldiers, _boy_," said someone to her right.

Clenching her fists, Kalasin glared at everyone in the room. "None of you stand a chance at what's to come."

"And you do?" asked someone nearby.

"I can try! I'm a Conté, and we never give up!" with that, she stuck her chin out stubbornly. Standing up, she made her way to the door, slamming it behind her when she walked out.

Qasim stared at the door, knowing others did the same. '...How can he be a Conté? Roald's at home...'

* * *

"Lerant, for the last time, who is it that you've brought here?" 

"My Lord Wyldon, I've told you! _His_ name is Kal. He fell into the river from the other side, and he was the one who screamed. I dove in to save him, but the current picked up and we were swept away."

"That boy looks exactly like Prince Roald did a few years ago! Those eyes of his are unmistakably Conté eyes-"

"I know nothing of this, I just know that his name is Kal, and he looks puny for his age, though he isn't."

"Thank you Lerant, that's all," said Raoul with a glance at Wyldon. "We're leaving in two days. This Kal will be sent off to New Hope tomorrow morning. You're dismissed."

Lerant's eyes widened a bit, "But sir! He's my charge. Can I not see to it that he's safely at New Hope?"

"He is no longer your charge, Lerant. He'll be fine."

Frowning, Lerant walked out, closing the door quietly behind him. The sun had gone down, and guards were changing shifts. Other than the guards around the wall, there was no movement. Shaking his head at the thought of leaving Kalasin, he headed towards his room he was given, stopping when someone ran past him.

Cautiously, Lerant looked around before following the shadowed figure he had seen. This led him to the stables where he caught sight of a small, ebony-haired "boy" standing in front of a stall that held a white mare. Crossing his arms over his chest, Lerant fumed. "Kalasin, _what_ do you think you're doing?"

The girl jumped and spun around, staring at Lerant. Biting down on her bottom lip, she gazed at the floor, searching her mind for what to say to him. Looking back up, her gaze locked with his as she opened and closed her mouth, looking much like a suffocating fish. "I'm leaving," she replied quietly.

"You can't get out, there are guards everywhere," he said as he closed the gap between them.

"I have my Gift, Learnt. I can make them sleep for an hour so that I will be able to be far away from here before word gets out of who I am. Lerant, I nearly told the people in the mess hall who I was!"

"Damn it Kalasin. They're sending you off to New Hope tomorrow morning, and the Own, along with myself, are leaving in two days. We're being separated Kalasin, and there's nothing we can do about it."

Tears welled up in the girl's eyes. She knew she would be leaving him and everyone else behind if she had left, but now that she was confronted with the reality of it, she didn't want to be alone. She didn't want to be separated from Lerant, from his comfort. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying, though the tears flowed fluidly down her cheeks.

Lerant's heart ached at the sight. "Kalasin, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's not you," she whispered, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.

Lerant brushed his lips against her forehead before unlatching the stall. He waited until the mare was standing in front of them before picking the girl up and setting her onto the horse. 'She's far too light,' he thought as he looked at the other horses. "Give me a minute and I'll go with you-"

"No, Lerant, it's treason!"

"Kalasin, your safety is worth it. Don't be so stupid."

Clenching her fist, the Princess closed her eyes, "Forgive me Lerant," she whispered before dipping into her pool of magic. Slipping a strand inside of him, she told him to sleep, and winced when he collapsed onto the floor. Re-settling herself on her mount, Kalasin urged her towards the opening. "Lerant, it's not that I don't wish you to accompany me, because I do. This is just my journey, something I must do by myself, and not put you in danger."

Clicking her tongue against her teeth, she gripped Mavaiya's mane in her fists. When she was stopped at the gate, she dipped into her magic once again, and caused every guard nearby to collapse as they entered an hour's worth of slumber.

After struggling with the gate, Kalasin and her mare took off, using the night's shadows as cover.

* * *

**AN:** Thanks for the reviews everyone, it's very nice to know people are interested. Again, I've hit some brick walls with this chapter. As for my pen name, just call me QT or Kat (my real / nickname) to shorten it up (: 

I may not update for a while because school is starting very soon SIGH and I'm going to be having lots of doctor appointments to get tested for a muscle disease thing shudder

If anyone has any suggestions for this story OR a new one that I could write, let me know.


	10. Chapter 9

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited By:** buttons7

**Summary:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking  
_blah_ Dreaming

* * *

Raoul paced outside the infirmary, thoughts rushing through his mind. Seeing the door open, the big burly man entered the room, stopping at the foot of Lerant's bed. He glared at the boy before strolling up to the boy's side, and pulling him up to eye-level by his shirt. "Lerant, by the Black God's realm, what happened? That boy of yours ran away and put you, as well as the guards along the wall and gate, to sleep!"

Lerant frowned, averting Raoul's gaze. "Kal has that ability, to make people sleep, sir."

"Where is she heading, Lerant?"

"To the middle of the war-" Lerant stopped and frowned, "you said she."

"Lerant, all who use magic leave a trace of it that can be traced back to them. Kal isn't a lad, sir, Kal is a lass. Tell me, Lerant, who is she?"

Hanging his head, he clenched his fists, "Kal's real name is Kalasin, Princess Kalasin of Conté to be exact."

"That's what Duke Baird said. He's worked with the Princess for years, teaching her to use her power, so it's quite understandable that he would recognize her magic right away."

"I tried to go with her, but she wouldn't let me. I know it would be treason, but it's not right to leave her defenseless. She has a sword, which she does not know how to wield."

"I've sent a squad out after her-"

"Have they found her yet?"

Raoul hung his head, "No, not yet."

"Lord Raoul, she'll die if we don't find her!"

* * *

"Scanrans have traveled along the river that separates Tortall from countries to the east. They await to attack Tortall's troops from their back whilst your troops, mage, attack the Tortallans from the front. They'll be powerless against men and immortals alike.

"Very good, Uusoae. Are you going to fight with us or stay in the tent, and wait for us to return."

"I will fight if needed, mage. Don't get so confident, for there is still a threat out there that you have been unable to destroy. Keep your eyes open for the girl, and kill her when you see her," said a female voice.

The white-blonde-haired man nodded his head, and exited the tent. A grin crossed his face as he gazed upon his troops. Men waited on horses or the immortals that were called hurroks; a creature with a horse's body, bat-like wings, claws, and fangs.

Walking to the front of his army, he mounted his large, gray warhorse. He then pulled out his sword, and pointed it in front of him. "To war," he cried, before kicking his mount into a gallop.

* * *

Kalasin's face brightened at the sight of what lay before her; men clad in armor, a shield in one hand, a spear or sword in the other. Their helmets shone brightly in the morning sun, and the light reflected off of the armor as multiple soldiers fidgeted. 'They're waiting for the enemy,' the girl realized. 'This is where I belong'.

About to urge her mare forward, she stopped, staring into the cold eyes of a blonde-haired stormwing. The stench that came from the immortal made her stomach roll in protest, wanting to toss up what little contents it had left.

"Remember me, child?" the immortal asked.

"Arianna Sharp-wing, is it not?"

"Very good child, you do remember me. Listen carefully, wielder of the god's sword, for what I am about to tell you may save your life."

"Why would you want to help me?"

"You are in the favor of a god, and we try to stay on the gods' good sides."

"The gods are helpless now. They're trapped in their realm, unable to break free."

"Oh, but they will. The tide can turn easily, either for or against the gods. Now listen up. You must stay away from the immortals you do not recognize. There is one specific immortal, one that resembles a wolf with two tails that can breath fire. Watch your back child, you don't know who you can trust-"

"You must help us! We will not stand a chance!"

"Oh, you will not, but you can try. This is not the stormwings' fight, this is the humans' fight."

Kalasin frowned, watching her take off into the air, soaring higher and higher until she disappeared into the clouds. "Come on, Mavaiya, let us join our people." Making a clicking noise, Kalasin brought her mount to a gallop, nearing the large amount of soldiers that awaited battle. As she neared, the sound of yelling reached her ears; the enemy was close by.

Though she was in the very back, Kalasin could clearly hear someone, a female, giving a speech to the men. "It's Aunt Alanna," she whispered to Mavaiya, her eyes twinkling with glee.

"No matter what comes at you, you will fight! You will fight not just for Tortall or your home, but for the people you love, for yourselves, and for everything you believe in! Don't take pity on a soul, for you will receive none! It is now that you will fulfill your oaths you took at Knighthood. Mithros and Goddess bless you all!"

Cheers rang out into the air, following the Lioness' words. 'I want to be at the front of the line, I must be at the front,' Kalasin thought as she frowned at the soldiers in front of her. "Excuse me," she said loudly, using her horse to push past the men on foot. Glares were shot at her as others around her groaned. Kalasin returned the glares, and continued forward, stopping only once she was at the rear of the mounted soldiers.

Everyone went quiet as the enemy approached, clad in armor that seemed to ripple, and never remain the same color or shape. Their swords, long and curved, glistened in the sunlight. Snarls from immortals rose into the air, followed by the war cry of the enemy.

Using the moment of silence, Kalasin pushed her and Mavaiya past the mounted riders until she stood in the front-most line. Soldiers all around her stared, many whispering for her to leave.

"This is no place for a lad like yourself," the man on her left said, "get out of here."

Kalasin just smiled and withdrew her sword, receiving weary glances from the soldiers.

"Lad, I'm telling you, get out of here! You have no armor, and you're too puny to wield a sword."

"Sir, I will not turn back. I've come too far to do so, and I won't leave my people. My place is right here beside them, beside you all. I'm fighting for what I believe in, fighting for my kingdom's freedom."

"Lad, you're talking nonsense!"

* * *

Lerant and Raoul exchanged glances when a soldier with tousled black hair and blazing azure eyes walked through the gates of Mastiff. Both men bowed deeply, "My Prince," they said in unison.

"Where is she, Raoul? Where is my sister?"

"Prince Roald, she is not here," replied Raoul coolly.

"Then, Raoul, where is she?"

"We do not know, my Prince."

"She's heading south, where the battle is at its thickest," said Lerant.

"What is your name?"

"Lerant, my Lord."

"Lerant, walk with me," Roald said as he headed towards the stable.

"Roald, what do you think you're doing?" cried Raoul.

"Going after my sister-"

"Don't be stupid, Roald. We can't risk you getting killed in battle as well."

"Raoul, Kalasin needs me."

Turning to a nearby soldier, Raoul frowned. "Round up the soldiers of the Own," he said loudly and clearly, "we're accompanying his Highness to battle."

* * *

The red-eyed mage held up a pale, bony hand, halting his followers. Gazing at the army on the opposite side of the river, the mage's eyes rested upon a blue-eyed, black-haired rider. A wolfish grin crossed his lips when blue eyes met his own.

"Kalasin," he cried out, "you're mine! Attack!"

Cries of his soldiers rang out into the air as the famed Lioness let out a war cry before charging the enemy. The mage followed suit, charging into the river, his sword swinging around him as arrows from either side flew past him.

Kalasin gazed at the man she had been talking to, "I don't talk nonsense, sir, and I am not a lad. I'm a lass." With that, she held her sword up, and put Mavaiya into a full run. An arrow flew by her, grazing her cheek. Another arrow flew by, a grunt from someone behind her becoming audible.

The girl's thoughts traveled away from the battle to the shadow growing in the back of her mind. 'He's here, I can feel his presence, and he knows I'm here. He knows who I am, and what I look like-' Her thoughts were interrupted by a woman's scream. A red bolt of lighting shot out from a tall, lanky man with white-blonde hair and red eyes, penetrating the Lioness' shoulder.

"No! Alanna!" the girl cried out, her blood boiling with fury.

Soldiers nearby the Lady Knight took her out of harm's way, and everything after that was a blur to Kalasin. Soldiers came at the girl, their swords raised, ready to swing down upon her. Most met their death due to Mavaiya's hooves striking their middle, and crushing their insides, others met Kalasin's blade.

The girl cried out when a spear shot through the air, lodging itself in the mare's neck. The horse whinnied a cry, rearing up, and dropping her rider. Arrows pelted the animal's body before the horse fell to the ground, her once white fur now stained with blood that belonged to her as well as others. "No! Mavaiya!" screamed Kalasin, crawling over to the dying mare.

Something flashed above Kalasin, the sound of metal on metal rang loud in her ears. Looking up through watering blue eyes, the girl gazed at the soldier she had stood by in line, the soldier who had told her to turn back. He shot a grin her way as his sword entered the unguarded flesh of an enemy soldier. Blood from the enemy's wound speckled Kalasin's face when the man pulled out his sword.

'This is what I wanted,' thought the Princess grimly, 'to be able to fight a war like everyone else, but look at me. I've not done much good. I've only caused death to those around me, whether they're friend or foe.'

* * *

Soldiers mounted on horses, clad in armor fled the fort. Roald, Raoul, and Lerant led the soldiers onward, pushing their horses to continue at a fast pace. 'At this pace, we'll be at the battlegrounds by nightfall,' thought Lerant, 'please Kalasin, be safe'. 


	11. Chapter 10

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited By:** buttons7

**Summary:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking  
_blah_ Dreaming

* * *

A snarl erupted from behind Kalasin as her sword slashed down upon a fallen enemy. Turning around, the girl's eyes went wide at the sight of an immortal; the beast had wiry gray fur which covered a wolf-like body with two tails. Its eyes gleamed yellow, and its fangs and claws were made of metal.

Orange fire shot from the sky, and covered the wolf immortal. Kalasin looked up, a smile crossing her lips. Arianna Sharp-wing had used stormwing magic to attack the immortal before it could get at Kalasin. Instead of two followers, she had a flock with her, each of them battling a hurrok or other stormwings.

"Wielder of the god's sword, I cannot hold the wolf-beast for long. You are not putting your heart into this battle, lass. Without pouring yourself into this battle, you all will surely fail, and the full potential of that sword will never be reached. Your people are dying all around you, and though you look at what's happening, you are not seeing it. Open your eyes lass, and open your heart!"

Metal claws wrapped themselves around the stormwing's neck. A blood-curdling scream filled the air as blood dripped down the immortal's body. The smell of burnt flesh met Kalasin's nose, and the sounds of screams entered her ears. The limp, pale body of Arianna Sharp-wing fell in front of the girl. A single tear rolled down the girl's cheek as she closed her eyes, her grip on the sword tightening.

Turning around, Kalasin opened her eyes when her sword bit flesh and metal. Swinging her sword in a crescent-moon shape, the girl slammed it down upon the wolf immortal's neck. The immortal's eyes flashed as it let out another snarl before swiping its paw at Kalasin.

The girl ignored the pain that flowed through her body, swinging her blade down upon the immortal over and over until its body went limp. Her blood- and sweat-stained clothes clung to her skin, as she ran her sword through an oncoming soldier's neck. Men and immortals alike fell to the ground, most of them clad in the colors of Tortall. 'Why can I not defend my people?' she thought furiously, 'why am I so weak?'

Light from the setting sun reflected off a metal wing. The girl through up an arm to shade her eyes, temporarily blinded by the brightness. The heat of fire hit her skin, the smell of singed clothing and flesh entered her nose. Her sword and skin glowed a ghostly pale blue. She felt the heat rolling off of her body as it ate away her clothing, but left her skin untouched. Turning around, she glared into the yellow orbs of the wolf-beast. "This is for Arianna," she said as she ran towards the immortal, her sword raised.

The immortal howled, and lunged at Kalasin, easily shoving her down. Kalasin thrust the sword into the immortal's shoulder, gasping for breath that had been knocked from her lungs. Her body and head ached, and once again, she felt alone. 'Lerant, I need your courage, I need your strength, I need you here beside me,' she thought as metal teeth entered the sensitive flesh around her neck. Powerful jaws slowly began to tighten the grip around Kalasin's neck, blocking air from entering her body. Blood dripped around the fangs, causing the beast to bite down harder, excited by the taste of blood.

* * *

Lerant scanned the battle before him, finding it devastating. Tortall's soldiers, the half still alive, were being driven back, and Kalasin was nowhere in sight. Alanna, the King's Champion, was losing a battle. Red-colored light shot through a soldier in front of Lerant, spraying blood on him. Grimacing, Lerant looked past the fallen soldier, his heart leaping into his throat when he saw a wolf-beast breaking the neck of some boy. 'No, that's not a boy, that's Kalasin!'

Jumping off of his mount, Lerant ran towards the beast, picking up a spear from the grip of a dead soldier on his way. Yelling, he thrust the spear into the beast's side, putting all of his weight and strength into the attack. The creature howled, and swiped a metal claw at the man, scraping him along his chest. The blow knocked Lerant to the soiled ground, tiny drops of blood collecting at the open wound.

Stumbling to his feet, Lerant frantically looked around for another weapon, or something to defend himself with. The immortal had torn out the spear, and stared wildly at Lerant. Crimson liquid dripped down its side, pooling on the ground. Its claws were covered with dirt and blood, while small drops of blood mixed with saliva dripped from its fangs. The immortal didn't care about the girl anymore. Its target was Lerant.

Roald, who had watched Raoul run to Alanna's aid, gazed at Lerant, and then the body laying beside him. "...Kalasin, no," he whispered, slipping off of his horse. Unsheathing his sword, he ran towards the man and his sister, watching the beast open its mouth.

Fire shot out from the immortal's mouth, just missing Lerant, though the heat felt unbearable. Its tail twitched, and again it roared out fire, and again Lerant jumped out of the way.

Roald's nose burned at the stench of burnt flesh and clothing, his grip tightening on his sword. Yelling, he drove the blade into the immortal's skull, destroying the last bit of life the creature had.

Kalasin felt her strength leaving her, her sight darkening as she clawed at the immortal. Someone's drowned out yell reached her ears when the world around her went dark.

* * *

_Kalasin frowned as she walked along in darkness, a very dim light illuminating her way. 'Where am I? What is this place?' she wondered, a cool breeze swirling around her, leaving her chilled. Coming to a stop, Kalasin stared at what was giving off the light; Mithros was sitting, staring at his hands blankly. He looked so lost, so frail. 'The light must be his power, which is diminishing rapidly,' she thought, walking up in front of the god._

_He gazed at her, his normally lively dark brown eyes glassy. His usually flawless face had deep creases, and his lips were cracked. "If I can't help my people, I can at least help you, can't I?" she asked, hope filling her voice. The god just stared at her, not showing any recognition that he even heard her._

_Sitting down in front of the god, she slipped her hands around one of his oddly cold, large hand, and dipped into her magic. Fiery hot liquid poured into the god, and spread through his body. The light grew brighter, and the warmth in the god's hand seemed to return. Smiling, the girl slid her hands away from Mithros, her body feeling weak._

_"...Girl, why do you do this?" the great god asked._

_"Because I can. I know I'm helping when I use my magic, and I know that you needed more strength. It's not like battle, Mithros, I can't work your sword like I can work my magic."_

_"Are you so sure of that, my little warrior? Are you so sure that you cannot wield my sword, command it to do your bidding like you command your magic? You're holding back your emotions in battle, but you need to let them go. You need them to take over your body and mind, guiding you as to what to do, but mastering my sword will not win you this battle. What is it truly that holds you back?"_

_"I-" she hesitated a moment before looking down at her lap. "I'm alone. I know that it can't be helped, but I wish someone was with me, to guide me, to support me in what I do. I feel so empty inside, so helpless."_

_"You're not alone, my little warrior. Those you hold closest to your heart are with you, you just can't see. They will not leave your side, nor should you leave theirs. People will look to you soon for commands, so be ready to take charge."_

_"How does your battle fare?"_

_"Do you really want to know?"_

_"Yes, I want to know how much of a chance we all have."_

_"I'm draining myself. My power seems to have no affect on this prison we're stuck in. Little one, my brothers and sisters are weak as am I. We get our strength from the power of those who worship us. If you, and your people can win this battle, we will grow strong enough to fight back against our sister, the goddess of Chaos. Beware of her, Kalasin."_

_The girl nodded, frowning when darkness seemed to re-appear. "Kalasin...Kalasin..."_

The girl's eyes fluttered open, and gazed into two brown eyes filled with worry. Realizing it was Lerant, a smile crossed her lips. 'He was right, I'm not alone,' she thought as he helped her sit up. "Lerant, I-"

Lerant cut her off, pressing his lips against hers. He held her close, as if she would disappear if he let go. "You're so stupid, Kalasin, so stupid," he said in-between quick kisses.

Kalasin's eyes stung with tears as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt the same comfort she always did when around him, the feeling of safety and love. "I'm so sorry, Lerant. Please forgive me."

The man nodded, brushing stray strands of ebony hair out of her face. "You're going to fight again, aren't you?"

"Yes I am, I know how to work my sword-" She froze, and then frantically looked around, "oh no, Lerant! I left my sword in that creature!"

"No you didn't. Don't you remember?"

"Remember what?"

"Roald and I took care of the monster, and started to drag you away, but you were thrashing around wildly, yelling for us to stop. You were screaming for your sword, and when you held out your hand, it flew out of the creature. It was as if you summoned it to you."

"So where is it?"

"Under some fresh clothes. Your clothing had been burnt off of you," he said with a chuckle, as her cheeks grew hot. "Don't worry so much, Kalasin. Your loincloth was still attached, barely."

Kalasin's nose wrinkled as she looked down, finding herself bare. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at Lerant who laughed. "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get dressed," she retorted.

Lerant stopped laughing, and took on a serious air, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Do you really want to?" he asked as he slipped his hands to her arms, his voice husky.

Chills went down Kalasin's spine as her stomach felt like butterflies flew around in it. Biting down on her lower lip, the girl gazed into Lerant's eyes, her insides melting at the way he gazed at her. "Lerant, you won't leave me to fight alone, will you?"

Lerant shook his head, a strand of brown hair falling into his face. "Leave you? I won't ever leave you Kalasin. I-"

Kalasin smiled, and pressed her finger against his lips, cutting him off. "I want you to be with me, Lerant. I want you to be by my side as often as you can, alright?"

"You know that won't be for long, Kal. As soon as this battle or war is over, we'll be separated."

The girl grinned, slipping her arms away from her chest. Grasping a fistful of Lerant's shirt, she pulled him closer to her, "will we be separated?"

"No, we won't be. We'll find a way to be together," he said as she unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off of his body. 'I love you,' she thought as she pulled him down to her, closing her eyes as they kissed each other passionately.

* * *

Kalasin grumbled as the blankets were pulled away from her naked body. Opening her mouth to protest, she stopped when a warm mouth was pressed against hers. Smiling, she pulled away slowly and gazed into Lerant's twinkling eyes.

"Midwinter's Luck, Milady," he said with a wink, "now, get dressed."

She watched him leave the tent before slipping off of the bed. Slowly she wandered over to a bench where her clothes and sword lay. A few moments later, she emerged from the tent, and was greeted by hushed whispers. The soldier that had told her to turn back the other day stared at her, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His arm was in a sling, and he had a horrible black eye.

Frowning, the girl briskly walked over to him, and quite ungracefully plopped herself down beside him. "Aren't there any decent healers with you men?"

The man hesitated a moment before responding, "Milady, most of the healers were killed by that mage. The Lioness just made it out alive, she's in recovery right now."

Kalasin bit her lip, shaking her head. "Let me see what I can do for you then," she said. Pressing her hands against his broken arm, she closed her eyes and slipped a strand of magic into his arm, re-growing the bone, and mending the tissue around it. She then let her magic cover his hurt eye, taking the swelling down. When she was done, she stood up, and brushed her hands off. "Your eye will hurt a bit, but I took the swelling down so you can see."

The man just stared at her in a daze, only remembering to bow to her as she turned and left.

Before Kalasin was able to sit down to eat, she made four more stops to do some minor healing. Once she was seated, she gratefully accepted some food, nearly choking when she caught sight of Roald glaring daggers at her. Setting her food beside her, she sighed, and stood up. "Roald, what are you doing here? You should be home."

"As should you, _Princess_," he spat, "I'm quite vexed with you, Kalasin. You should know better than to risk your life like this, fighting a war you cannot win. You're too much of a lady to fight."

"You're sounding like a no-good conservative, Roald."

"You forget your place, Kalasin!"

"And you forget who you talk to, Roald!"

"I'm taking you home, sister dear, and we're leaving right this minute."

"I refuse to do anything more until I've seen to Aunt Alanna."

"You know Alanna will be fine. Stop stalling."

"Roald, though you may not, I do consider her to be family, whether she is related by blood or heart, and I wish to see her well again." With that, Kalasin strode off towards the tent that she was told the Lioness was in. Taking a deep breath, Kalasin walked over to where Alanna slept, and placed her hands on the woman's arm, pouring her magic into the Lioness. Hours passed as she repaired bones, replaced flesh and blood, burnt out disease, mended muscles, and took away bruises.

* * *

When Alanna awoke, she found herself healed, a slumbering body laying half on the bed, half on the floor. Smiling, Alanna pulled the body onto the bed, her smile diminishing to a scowl. The one who had done the healing was a young lady. "Kalasin, it was you that I saw," she muttered. 'She looks so much like Jonathan. I wonder how she made it this far without being recognized.'

Strolling out of the tent, the red-haired woman stopped in front of a tall burly man, her amethyst eyes blazing. "Raoul-"

"Alanna, I had no idea who she was until it was too late. We're taking her home as soon as she wakes up."

"Raoul, she's quite a fighter, don't you think?"

Confused, Raoul gazed down at the purple-eyed woman. "Get to the point Alanna," he said firmly.

"Let her stay and fight."

"Absolutely not!" cried Roald, who had come up beside her.

"My Prince, her heart is in the battle. She needs to fight. I give you my word that she will be safe," she said kindly.

"Alanna, her place is at home, not here!"

"Roald, it's time for your sister to grow up, and become who she wishes to be. She doesn't want people choosing her path for her, so don't. If you love her, let her do what she believes is right."

Roald looked away, stung by these words. He wanted his sister to be safe, but Alanna was right; he was being too protective of her, trying to keep her sheltered from the realities of the world. He had to let her go. "As long as she remains here to fight, I'll be with her."

Alanna smiled as a response.

"Raoul, watch that Lerant fellow," Roald suddenly blurted, his blue eyes ablaze. "I found him and my sister bedding together this morning. Both were asleep, but she's still naive, and I refuse to let someone like him be intimate with Kalasin."

Raoul went pale, as did Alanna. They exchanged looks when Roald walked off, talking to other soldiers. "I'll talk to her about it," Alanna replied as Raoul just nodded, still shocked by what Roald had said.

'Lerant, and Kalasin?' he thought dumbfounded, 'why do I miss the most obvious things?'


	12. Chapter 11

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited By:** buttons7

**Summary:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking  
_blah_ Dreaming

* * *

The red-haired female made her way towards a small, white tent, stopping when her amethyst eyes caught sight of a figure crouched over a wounded soldier. Her smile and calm features, which she had managed to keep while talking to Prince Roald, faltered. Inside, her blood was boiling with anger, and her temper was rising. She wished not to bring her wrath onto King Jonathan's children, but it seemed his daughter needed a lesson, one that Alanna could teach very easily. 

Alanna stalked over to where Kalasin slowly began to rise after healing the worse of the soldier's injuries. Grasping the girl's arm firmly, Alanna's eyes gazed dangerously at the Princess. "Might I talk to you for a moment?" she asked, though it was more of a command than a request.

Without waiting for a response, the Lioness pulled the Princess into a nearby vacant tent with ease. All too easily Alanna pushed Kalasin into a chair before pulling the opening in the tent shut. 'That girl is structurally weak, she'll not survive long,' she thought, 'though her love for her people may give her a small chance.'

Alanna's piercing amethyst eyes studied Kalasin's face for a moment. The wide-eyed Princess was trembling slightly, which amused the woman. "Princess Kalasin, you have a duty-"

"I will not go back, and you-"

"Don't interrupt me child," she yelled, causing Kalasin to snap her mouth shut. "As I was saying, you have a duty to the kingdom as well as to your family. You are a lady, raised in the Court. You were bred to be an heir to the throne, and to keep the Conté bloodline from diminishing. Fighting in a war, of which you don't belong, is going against your duty. You don't have the ability, the stamina, or the proper equipment to fight!"

Kalasin lowered her gaze, her blue eyes becoming watery. 'I will not let her see me cry,' she thought defiantly.

"I will have someone pack a few provisions, and then you, accompanied by your brother, will set off for Corus. Do I make myself clear, _Princess_?"

"Yes Lady Alanna," the girl replied quietly.

About to walk out of the tent, Alanna remembered what Roald had said earlier. "Kalasin," she said sternly, turning around, and facing the girl. "You aren't to go around that standard-bearer in Raoul's squad from now on."

Kalasin's mouth opened slightly as her blue eyes went wide, and her complexion paled. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, she didn't want to believe it. 'I won't listen,' she thought defiantly, glaring at the woman who gazed at her sympathetically before walking out.

* * *

Lerant ran towards the girl who stood, waiting to mount the sturdy bay gelding after her brother became situated in the saddle. "Wait, Kalasin," he yelled as the girl reached a small hand up to her brother in order to be pulled into the saddle. 

Kalasin blinked, pulling her hand away as she gazed over her shoulder. Tears welled up in her eyes as she caught sight of Lerant running to her. Ignoring the protests from Alanna, Raoul, and Roald, the girl closed the space that remained between her and Lerant.

Throwing his arms around her, he pulled her close, not caring who saw them. "Kalasin, I can't see you after this-"

"I know!" she cried, burying her face into his shirt as hot tears traveled down her cheeks. "I won't let them stop me from seeing you, Lerant-" She frowned, allowing Lerant to pull her even closer when Roald called for her. Gazing up into his brown eyes, she forced a small smile.

Lerant's heart clenched at the thought of never seeing her again. Slipping his fingers under her chin, he dipped his head down, and pressed his lips against hers, kissing her softly. He felt her fingers running through his hair as he deepened their kiss.

Kalasin felt him slowly pulling away as Roald continued to raise his voice, demanding her to leave Lerant so they could be on their way home. "Lerant-" She stopped herself when he slipped something around her neck. Her fingers touched the item lightly, finding it to be a metal chain holding a pendant.

"It's so you won't forget me, Kalasin," he said when she gave him a questioning look. "I would give you a ring," he muttered, "but I don't have one."

"I don't need a trinket to remember you, Lerant. I love you," she whispered, her cheeks growing hot.

Lerant stared at her for a moment before grinning. Seeing Roald ride up next to them, he shot a glare towards the Prince before kissing Kalasin one last time, "goodbye Kalasin."

"No, it's not goodbye, Lerant. It'll never be goodbye," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. Ignoring Roald's snort, she mounted onto the gelding. Sitting up as straight as she could, Kalasin looked ahead of her, refusing to look back.

Lerant watched as her figure disappeared into the woods before turning away. For some reason, he didn't believe he'd ever see her again.

* * *

A tall, bulky man walked up to the red-eyed mage, bowing quickly. "Sir, the Scanran armies are in position." 

The mage merely glanced at the man. "Good, tell them to start the attack."

"Very good sir," the man said before walking off.

"As soon as the King's Champion is destroyed, we can move on, and Tortall will be mine," said the mage, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

* * *

Lerant stared at the men emerging from the forest, dressed in Scanran clothing. Arrows rained down upon the camp. Grim-faced, Lerant stared at the soldiers around him screaming as their bodies became pelted with arrows. Men ran out of tents, yelling to each other while stringing their bows, and firing return shots. The sound of clashing metal, and war cries came from behind Lerant as the sounds of men screaming in pain surrounded him. 'We're cut off,' he realized as an archer loosed his bow. 

Not seeing the arrow that flew at him, he gasped when it penetrated his leather armor, and imbedded itself in his chest. A pain flooded through his body as he felt sticky liquid ooze around the arrow shaft. Looking down at his chest, he choked as three more arrows sank into his flesh.

'Kalasin,' he thought as his body began to grow limp, 'I love you'. Closing his eyes, he let darkness wrap itself around him as his body fell to the ground, the screams of men fading away.

* * *

**  
AN: **I write the chapters 'raw' as it was put. I try to write at least a chapter and one half of another each day, but that doesn't always work out with my schedule. My goal is to keep this updated regularly, because I personally dislike it when the author makes you wait and wait and wait. I'm glad you all are enjoying this. 

Please people, be patient and have faith in me. I don't forget the character's personalities, but for the sake of how I want this chapter / story to go, I may leave out a specific characteristic for the time being. (Who the hell is Mary Sue?) Also, I don't mind flames, unlike most people. Everyone has a right to express his or her opinion whether it's negative or positive. I also consider most things as critique, which is what I like :)

Lastly, I'm having some very severe health problems at the moment, along with trying to deal with school.

QT


	13. Chapter 12

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited By:** buttons7

**Summary:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking  
_blah_ Dreaming

* * *

Kalasin ran her fingers over the emerald jewel that hung around her neck. 'Be safe, Lerant', she thought as the bay gelding came to a stop, his ears twitching. Slipping the necklace inside her shirt, she looked around, seeing nothing but the trees. There, to her left, came sounds of leaves rustling, and twigs snapping.

Roald unsheathed his sword, his blue eyes focusing on a subtle movement nearby. It was as if time stood still as he waited, expecting the worse to come out of hiding. A grunt reached his ears before a tall man stepped into view. Dropping his sword, Roald ran to the man, catching him before he fell. "Raoul!" he cried as the man struggled to breath.

Kalasin's lip quivered. Raoul had been shot twice in the chest, once in the thigh. His clothes were soaked in blood, and his complexion was pale through the streaks of dirt that marked his face. Wasting no time, Kalasin slipped off of the horse and ran to the dying commander. His normally lively dark eyes seemed dull and distant.

Quickly, the Princess pressed her fingers against a wound, ignoring the loud groan emitted from the man. Taking a deep breath, she plunged inside herself, finding the source of her magic. Dipping her hands into it, she drew it out of herself, and into Raoul's body, handfuls at a time. Her magic spread throughout his body, repairing bones, tissue, and muscles.

When she finished replenishing the blood he lost, she opened her eyes. Everything was blurry as tears distorted her vision. "What happened Raoul? What happened?" she screamed, as Roald helped the man sit up.

The man's face darkened as he thankfully accepted the water flask from Roald. Taking a swig, he sighed in content as the liquid cooled his throat. "We were cut off shortly after you two left. Scanrans had traveled along the river until they were behind us. They attacked, a whole mass of them. I'm guessing there were a good five thousand men, while the army we had been fighting attacked us at the front. We were pelted with arrows from the back while fighting off swords at the front. Some were able to run off, I think, but..." Raoul let his voice fade as he shook his head, knowing what Kalasin really wanted to find out; was Lerant alive or not.

Kalasin stared at the ground, trembling slightly. "Who didn't make it?" 'Please, Mithros, don't let it be Lerant,' she prayed as Raoul hesitated a moment.

"Alanna didn't make it. For as skilled as she is, and though she has the Gift, she was no match for the mage that was leading the armies. He just _pointed_ at her, and red lighting shot out from his finger, going straight through her chest. It blew a damned hole in her body!" Taking a breath, he blinked back tears as his jaw and fists clenched. "That's not even half of it either. When you left, she tried to reach Numair and Jon through the fire, and both were unreachable. She said it was as if this whole gods-forsaken area is magically cut off from the rest of the world."

Kalasin opened her mouth, but snapped it shut when Raoul gazed at her sympathetically. "He didn't make it, did he Raoul," she asked quietly.

"Kalasin, I'm sorry," he said, looking away from her as he told her of how he tripped over the man's arrow-imbedded body. Only when she got up and ran off into the woods did Raoul look up. "When she returns, we have to get out of here, Roald."

Roald's expression was emotionless as he watched his sister disappear into the thicket. "I know, Raoul, I know."

* * *

Running deeper, and deeper into the forest, Kalasin wiped her eyes as tears blurred her vision. Not paying attention to where she was going, Kalasin screamed when her body suddenly tumbled down a hill due to her foot catching on an uplifted tree root. When her body finally stopped moving, she found herself laying at the edge of a small stream, her hand dangling into the chilly water.

At that moment, she lost her grip on her emotions. Sobs escaped her mouth as hot tears burned her cheeks. She was truly alone now. 'No, you're not alone. You still have Roald,' the more sensible half of her argued. 'Quit this blubbering. You're only feeling sorry for yourself, when instead of weeping, you should be avenging your peoples' deaths.'

Taking a deep breath, the girl calmed her nerves as she whimpered softly. Slowly, she stood, her fingers traveling up to the pendant that hung around her neck. 'I won't let your death be wasted, Lerant, I promise,' she thought. A leaf crunched from somewhere behind her, causing her to immediately tense up. 'Stupid, stupid,' she thought, scolding herself for becoming so wrapped up in her emotions to not notice if she was being followed.

The wind whistled in the trees, sending chills up Kalasin's spine. The sky was growing darker by the minute, and she was in unfamiliar territory. Slowly, her hand drifted to her sword's hilt, and gripped it firmly. Another leaf crunched, this one sounding as if it came from directly behind her.

Swiftly, she unsheathed her sword, and spun around, stopping the blade just inches from a man's neck. Her blood ran cold when she saw arrows pointed at her out of the corners of her eyes. Keeping her blade steady, still pointed at the man's neck, she took this time to examine who she had nearly killed.

The man was actually a centaur. His hair on both his human half and horse half was as black as night. He had twinkling green eyes, and his build was muscular. A tan shirt hang loose over his body, covering the area where his horse half connected to his human half.

"Lower your sword, human," he spat.

"I don't listen to those I do not trust," she retorted.

"You're in our territory, human, so do as I say. Either you lower your weapon now, or you die where you stand," he said as he raised his fisted hand, ready to give the command to fire.

"_Your_ territory! You're on that damned mage's side aren't you? I will never put down my sword, and surrender to the likes of you monsters!"

A few muffled whispers came from the centaurs with crossbows when Kalasin mentioned the mage. Slowly, the black-haired centaur lowered his hand, his green eyes gazing intently at Kalasin. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice now soft.

"Are you aligned with the mage?" Kalasin asked, her eyes blazing with anger.

"Don't be stupid, _human_."

* * *

Jonathan of Conté gazed up from the untouched meal that lay before him. Whispers flooded the room at the sight of a disheveled prince followed by a ragged looking knight. The King's dull eyes widened as he quickly rose from his seat. "Roald, Raoul," he breathed.

"Roald dipped his head as Raoul bowed, "Father, might we talk a moment?" the Prince asked in a commanding tone.

Jonathan excused himself from the table of nobles, shaking his head at his wife who began to rise in hopes of being included in this conversation. Only when she sat down did he exit the room, following his son and friend to a vacant room.

With the wave of his hand, Jonathan had the whole room shrouded in his magic, spelled to protect them from eavesdroppers. Once that was done, the King gazed intently at his son and best friend, his brows knitting together in question when he noticed the absence of his daughter.

"Jon, sit down," Raoul said, his voice weary. "Alanna is dead, the area where she was fighting has been taken by Scanrans and Tyrans alike. A mage is leading them, one that I fear is more powerful than even Numair." On he went, explaining what he remembered of the battle. Finally, he sat down, clearly exhausted.

"What about Kalasin?" Jon asked, his lips tight.

"Kalasin didn't return when she ran off to mourn the deaths of those close to her," Roald said softly, his eyes moist. "We waited as long as we could, but we heard scouts coming, so we fled. She's chosen her own path, Father, so let her be. No one can change her mind now. We can't dwell upon her stupidity. We have to look towards the future, and bring everyone here. We need as many people who can fight as possible. We can re-build villages, and cities, we can re-sow the crops, but we can't replace people if they die due to lack of strength. If we gather together, we'll be stronger than ever."

Jonathan stared at his son, his expression unreadable. 'He's grown up,' the King thought, 'He'll be a fine leader when my time ends.'

* * *

Kalasin found herself led to a small camp where centaurs of all ages were hard at work, preparing food and fire, sharpening weapons, and having playful sparring tournaments. The girl's eyes danced at the cheerful sight, her heart clenching as she thought of home.

Though the black-haired centaur, who was guiding her through the camp, was talking to her, she heard nothing. She didn't even realize she stopped walking until he came to stand beside her, and follow her gaze to some bandaged Tortallian soldiers. They were sitting on a log, sipping some liquid out of a clay bowl. No one seemed to notice them.

"They're refugees from the war that just took place," he said, his voice harsh though his eyes showed kindness and pity. "There's more in some tents. They were the ones who managed to escape, and our scouts found them. There are only Tortallian soldiers here though, because that's where our alliance lies."

"Let me go help them," Kalasin said in a commanding tone.

"What can you do human?" the centaur asked in interest.

Ignoring him, Kalasin ducked past other immortals, making her way towards the soldiers who were now laughing at a joke one made. When the girl stopped in front of the men, they looked up at her, their eyes widening slightly.

The centaur watched as the girl grabbed the men's hands, and their bruises healed before his eyes. "A mage," he muttered under his breath as he continued to watch her carefully remove the bandages, only to find that there was no wound.

"Human, come here," he demanded, his emerald eyes narrowing at the girl. The immortals around him glanced up momentarily before continuing on with their tasks.

Kalasin frowned, standing up slowly. She was about to turn around when the first man she healed grasped her wrist. Glancing back at the immortal, she shrugged and bent down to the man, smiling. "Is there something I can get you?"

The man gazed at her, his eyes glassy. "Lad-no, that's not what you are. Lass, do you remember me? You came to stand next to me, all high and mighty on your horse just a few days ago."

Kalasin's eyes widened, "yes, I remember you. You told me to go back home."

He nodded slowly, his eyes holding hers. "You're not just any lass though, are you?"

Kalasin's smile faltered a bit, but still remained planted on her face. "No, I suppose I'm not, though I don't believe my status matters at this point. What matters is that you all are safe."

"Princess," he paused for a moment before releasing her wrist that he held so tightly to. "Before I fled to the woods, I saw where men were being taken. The ones still alive are being beaten, and then caged. Those with severe wounds most likely won't make it. Those cages are meant for slaves, Princess. That's what they plan on doing with the others, enslaving them, making money off of the men."

Kalasin lost her smile completely, the thought of the soldiers' fate causing fury to build inside her. Again, she heard the centaur summoning her. "I must go," she muttered before brushing her lips against the man's forehead as she stood up. "Stay strong. We'll see the end of this war soon," she said with determination, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.

The centaur watched as Kalasin walked towards him, her hair hanging in her face, masking whatever emotions were visible. She looked different than before, when he had first found her. She now demanded attention as she strode towards him, her white-knuckled fists tight against her sides. "Look at me, and tell me your name," he said as he grabbed the girl's chin, forcing her to look at him.

A small smile crawled across her lips, a plan to turn the tides of the war unfolding in her mind. "I will tell you my name only when all of your...herd's leaders are present."

The corner of the centaur's mouth twitched as he let go, glaring at her with disgust. "Why should I listen to you?"

"You should listen to me because you have no other choice. I have an idea, and unless you want your herd to be sent to the Black God's realm by that mage, you will listen to what I say."

* * *

**AN:** I myself didn't want to have Lerant die, but unfortunately, I was in an angst mood. I also like to shock people. I've been debating non-stop with myself about whether to make Lerant live or die, and I finally decided his fate, which was written in this story :3

Sorry I haven't updated in forever dodges items thrown at her I've been to the doctors 2-3 hours away from here since she was a specialist, and she refuses to believe I have a muscle disease. It was a waste of money and time in all truth.

After that, school began to take up my time, and then I was out for a week, blacking out in the halls and being in too much pain to move. That weekend, my father grew ill, and went to the hospital. He had a bleeding ulcer, but he's better now, and on medicines, though the doctors are monitoring his heart.

Now, I'm still in the process of making up school work, and my 17th birthday is Tuesday (October 4th), so I apologize for my long absence.


	14. Chapter 13

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT  
**Edited By:** Microsoft Word

**Summary:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking  
_blah_ Dreaming

* * *

Kalasin was left standing in the middle of the camp, alone, as the centaur muttered obscene language under his breath, walking off to find the leaders of his herd. She sighed loudly, relaxing her white-knuckled grip she had on her sword when around the black-haired immortal. After a few minutes of watching immortals work, she found herself being handed a basket of bandages, and whisked away into a nearby tent.

"I saw what you did, so fix these ones too," came a voice beside the girl.

Kalasin frowned, turning to face the immortal, but she stopped herself when one of the men near the back end of the tent suddenly went into convulsions. Kalasin's complexion paled as she rushed over to the man, glancing at nearby centaurs, demanding they hold him down. Without waiting for them to do as she bid, she dove into the man with her power. She felt her power drain out of her as she stopped the bleeding in his head, slowly allowing her power to mend minute things as she pulled out of him.

Gasping, the girl opened her eyes, toppling off of the bedside onto the floor, the room spinning. 'I overdid it again,' she thought scolding as water was thrust at her. Unable to move without feeling the need to vomit, Kalasin tried pushing the water away, only to feel cool liquid being poured into her mouth.

Slowly, Kalasin got to her feet with the help of a brown-haired centaur. Sighing, Kalasin looked around at all of the injured humans, her azure eyes narrowing at the centaur. "Why do you bother helping these men, and where did you find them?"

"We all have a common enemy, mage-girl. If we heal these humans, they'll fight our enemy for us, and we found them along the riverbank, much like yourself."

Kalasin nodded, her eyes scanning the beds. "I'll run out of power easily, so for the basic wounds, we need bandages, ones that have been boiled mind you, and sticks to use as splints for broken bones."

Within minutes, Kalasin had immortals bandaging up minute wounds. Smiling to herself, she went from bed to bed, getting rid of fatal infections, internal bleeding, and other injuries the body needed assistance in healing. Nearing the last bed, she felt her strength leaving her. She began to feel unstable on her feet as she came to stand at the side of the bed. What she saw made her body and mind go numb; a ghostly pale man lay before her, his breathing shallow and hoarse. The sheets that lay above him were stained with old blood, Lerant's old blood.

"Lerant," she breathed, her blue eyes widening as she slipped her hands over his. Closing her eyes, she searched inside of her, finding a dull light; her magic was nearly gone for the day. Not caring of what consequences would come from using it up, she gathered as much as she could and let it slide into Lerant's body. She healed multiple wounds from arrows; thankfully none of the wounds were deep. She also reduced the size of his lip to normal, repairing the cut and bruising that came with it.

Slowly, her eyes opened, her legs wobbled a bit, but didn't give way. She heard the sound of hooves clicking against the ground, stopping behind her. Her arm was firmly gripped, and soon she was being dragged out of the tent, the fresh air bringing her back to reality.

Kalasin stared up into the black-haired centaur's furious face. A slow smile crossed her pink lips, "he's alive," she whispered, her eyes turning glassy.

The centaur gave her an odd look, his stern voice ringing in the air, "who's alive?"

"Lerant-"

"Your lover?" he asked, a grin appearing on his face.

Kalasin's cheeks turned a deep shade of pink as she looked away, her trance that she was in diminishing. With a loud sigh, she shook off the immortal's grip, and stood straighter, raising her chin up stubbornly. "Have you gathered the herd's leaders? I wish to speak to them still."

The centaur suddenly stood up straighter himself, narrowing his eyes a bit. "Follow me, and don't stray off," he commanded, walking off at a fast pace, causing Kalasin to jog in order to keep up.

* * *

Mithros glanced next to him in the darkness. The spot where his sister had been was absent. He felt alone and vulnerable without the Goddess there to be his more reasonable half. He had a quick temper, whereas she had the calmness and patience of a worm wrapped in its cocoon, waiting for its day to fly.

Closing his eyes, his large fists clenched shut as her screaming echoed in his mind. The humans were fighting that mage after shooing Kalasin away. Alanna, the human his sister had chosen to bless, drained herself against the mage in order to save her soldiers. His sister, sensing this, seeing this, used the remaining of her powers to help her daughter. Alanna and the Goddess became one, the Goddess bonding herself to her daughter, but it was useless.

Gashes, and cuts appeared all over his sister's body, blood, mortal's blood, trickled out of the wounds as she screamed. Death came to his sister; her body disintegrating until only her cloak was left in her spot, tattered at the hems.

His sister's death stole all the remaining hope that he might have had. "It's over now," he mumbled to himself mournfully, "all over."

* * *

The Princess stopped at the closed entrance of an abnormally large tent. Its walls were made of various shades of green silk, and the sticks that held it up were polished wood. About to send out a prayer to the gods for good luck, she remembered the position they were in, and a sudden sadness overcame her. Her posture faltered, and her eager expression became dull.

The black-haired centaur glanced at her briefly before opening the flap of the tent. "My sires, I've brought the human."

"Well, what are you waiting for, Blackfire, bring him in," commanded an elderly looking centaur, positioned in between two others.

Blackfire nodded, glancing back over his shoulder, beckoning to Kalasin. "Do not keep them waiting," he hissed, grabbing her by her wrist. Walking into the tent, he shoved her towards the immortals, then backed up until his rear was inches away from the entrance.

Kalasin's eyes widened as she stared at the three centaurs. Each adorned multiple metal chains around their neck, and jewels decorated their wrists and fingers. Their hair contained small braids upon which cloth or feathers were weaved into.

The girl forced a smile, glancing at the floor. Hesitating a moment as to what gesture she should make, she curtsied as gracefully as she could with trousers on. Slowly, she rose, her azure eyes darting nervously from one immortal to the next. Clearing her throat, she smiled slightly, taking up the air of royalty.

"I'm-"

"You're a _female_," the centaur in the middle snorted, a look of disgust overcoming his face.

"I'm Princess Kalasin of Conté. I come with a proposal dealing with the mage-"

"Blackfire, what sort of shit is this?" a younger looking centaur roared, his eyes glaring daggers at Kalasin.

"Let her talk," he snapped, walking up behind Kalasin.

Taking a deep breath, the girl continued, "I say we join forces!" When no one seemed to respond verbally, she went on. "We'll be stronger, together, than by ourselves. This war is no longer between humans, but between humans and immortals. The mage has both following him, and so it would only make sense to do the same. If we choose not to join one another, we'll all be sent to our graves."

Silence fell upon them, causing Kalasin to start playing with the hem of her tunic. The girl felt a sturdy hand come to rest on her shoulder, squeezing it subtly in attempt to bring comfort to her. "Will you not fight with us, along the sides of men? No not men, but friends? Do you not see we fight for the common purpose of life? I have men that are still alive, and able to fight once I get my fingers on them. They are in cages I've been told, and once I heal their major wounds, we'll have a chance, one that we should take!"

"We have too many young foals to worry about, and their dams. We care not about human affairs. We mind our own business. We stay out of the wars humans bring upon the world-"

"You are already involved!" she cried, interrupting the eldest centaur. "You've helped my men not perish, and so you're obviously not on the side of the mage. Whenever he is mentioned, whispers rise all around you, do you not hear? He is taking your lands, he will enslave you and your herd. Do you not care?"

"If they were his men we would do the same, we are neutral!"

"Then pick a side, my side! I beg of you, help us. If you, or anyone does not help us, then the gods will fall! Their time is fading, as is ours, unless we fight for it!"

The three centaurs exchanged looks. "Why should we believe _you_?" the youngest one spat, his eyes dangerously cold.

Kalasin opened, and closed her mouth, unsure as to what to say. Looking down at the floor, she heard him snort. She could feel his eyes on her as he spoke venomously towards her, "You are just a human, a female human for that matter, and a princess. You know nothing of what you speak, and here you are, trying to be bold, winning over the hearts of your followers. You will find no support here. All you will bring is trouble."

"Blackfire, lock her up, we will discuss this later," demanded the eldest of the centaurs.

Blackfire stared at them before looking down at Kalasin. He hesitated before glaring defiantly at the three head centaurs. "No," he said, his attempt to hide his fear faltering when his voice shook a little.

The eldest centaur rose, his face turning red. "What did you say?"

Blackfire's grip on Kalasin's shoulder tightened as he dug into the dirt with his hoof nervously. "I said no."

"You dare defy us?"

"She doesn't deserve this, she has healed our people as well as her own."

"If we let her go, she'll run off to that mage-"

"We have her lover, if she runs off, we can kill him."

Kalasin's eyes went wide as she jerked away from Blackfire, stumbling over her own feet, and landing on her rump. Glaring up at them, she stood, dusting herself off. "You will do no harm to any of my people-"

She felt the flesh of a callused hand make contact with her soft cheek. The sting caused her eyes to grow moist as she backed away from the eldest centaur. Seeing he was about to say something, she turned on her heel and fled the tent.

Only when she met the edge where the clearing met the forest did she look back at the tent where she discovered Lerant. Her fingers went up to caress her pendant as she thought a moment. About to go back to the camp, she stopped, glancing towards the forest. Withdrawing the sword from its place at her hip, she gripped it firmly. Slowly, she entered the darkness of the forest, a place where immortals that preyed upon humans lived.

* * *

The mage smiled crookedly as he sent Uusoae with a squadron of men to the heart of Tortall. They would storm the castle in Corus, and Uusoae would easily destroy anyone who got in her way. 'Once she takes care of Jonathan and his damned family, I'll have what I want,' he thought ruefully, his eyes gleaming with joy.

* * *

Kalasin flinched when she stepped on a twig, causing it to snap. Stopping where she was, the girl glanced around, her eyes searching for the slightest movement, her ears searching for any sound. None. She continued to make her way deeper into the dark forest, the only noises she heard being her own footsteps.

Judging by how tired she was, Kalasin figured she had been traveling at least an hour. Her feet ached, and she longed to be back home, soaking in a hot bath. 'What did I do?' she thought miserably, 'I ran away to help "my people", but I'm not fit for this at all. I don't know what I'm doing, and I just want to go home!'

Whimpering in self-pity, Kalasin leaned against a large tree, and slid down so that she was crouching at its base. Her facade of a noble girl who was as tough as anyone was melting away as quickly as wax over a flame. Too busy with feeling sorry for herself, Kalasin didn't notice large, dark figures moving soundlessly in the branches high above her.

'Toughen up,' the brave half of herself told her, 'you're acting like a baby. Have you no dignity?' Sniffling, the girl began to stand up when a glowing, sticky rope latched itself onto her body as well as the tree trunk behind her. She was unable to move away from the tree, or reach her sword to cut herself free from her bindings.

One of the large figures dropped down in front of Kalasin, its metal teeth showing as it sneered at the girl. It was a spidren, an immortal. The creature had a human head, metal teeth showing it was a predator, and a black spider's body. The spidren that stood before the girl was male, his skin pale, and his eyes the color of honey. He had light blonde hair that fell in his face.

"What is a dainty human like you doing, wandering around, alone?"

His voice was filled with spite, causing a shiver to run down Kalasin's spine. She could feel herself trembling, though she refused to show her fear in her voice as she spoke clearly. "Get me out of this thing right now," she demanded, her blue eyes glaring into the immortal's.

The spidren cackled along with a few more who decided to drop down, getting a better view of the girl. "Who do you think you are? You've wandered into our territory. We will be the ones giving the orders, not some puny human." His eyes suddenly turned cold, "if you go on acting as though you are better than us, I will bite off your head," he remarked bluntly.

Kalasin took a deep breath as her body continued to tremble more fiercely. "I am the Princess of Tortall, and I _command_ you to let me go this instant."

What sounded like a growl emitted from the blonde-haired spidren as he suddenly sprang forward, his mouth open, and his metal fangs dangerously nearing the Princess' throat.

The girl's eyes shut tightly as she reached for the sword, willing it to reach her hand. As soon as she felt her fingers brush the hilt, she grasped it tightly, slicing through the sticky string of web that entrapped it. With a quick movement of her wrist, Kalasin had the sword pointing at the immortal's throat.

The immortal's teeth were nearly latched around her neck. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead, 'that was too close,' she though as she glanced around her at the other immortals. "Let me go," she said in a low voice, pressing the sword against the spidren's delicate flesh. A small line of red formed where the blade met the skin, and suddenly Kalasin's eyes widened as the immortal hissed and backed away from her.

"Bitch," he spat, still backing away from her.

"Please, let me go. I'll heal it, I promise. I came to speak to your leader if you have one. My friends and I need help, your help. Please," she added quietly, a sudden wave of sadness overcoming her.

"Nightstriker, don't you dare leave her. She's the one the prophecy speaks of. We are to be lead into battle by the child of light and everything good. She is that child; do you not recognize that blade? It is the blade of Mithros. She is the chosen one-"

"Don't be stupid-What are you doing?" he cried as the female spidren who had spoken in the girl's defense released her.

Kalasin put the sword away, and flashed a small smile at the immortal who helped her. She had black, stringy hair with bright green eyes. "Will you help me then?" the Princess asked softly, her eyes pleeding for them to say yes.

* * *

A scream, then two, then many, erupted at camp as the sound of fleeing centaurs rose in the air. Blackfire quickly grabbed his bow and collection of arrows. Slipping one into place, he galloped out of the tent towards the far end of the grounds. What he saw shocked him, and made his skin crawl. Kalasin was leading _spidren_ into the camp. 'Has she gone mad?' he thought wildly, aiming at a blonde-haired creature that stood next to the girl.

Kalasin gasped, "no!" she cried as the centaur loosed the arrow. Pulling out her sword, she knocked the arrow aside, and stood in front of the spidren, Nightstriker. "Blackfire, stop! They are friends, _our_ friends."

Blackfire gazed at her uneasily as he pawed at the earth. "You have gone mad! You can't trust them, just _look_ at them!"

"Blackfire, hold your tongue," she commanded, her blue eyes blazing. "Get your followers and meet us by the stream," her voice suddenly went soft and kind, "I have an idea as to how to defeat that mage."

Blackfire hesitated a moment before bowing his head. He frowned as they turned around to head to the stream where he had first encountered the girl. "I hope you know what you are doing," he muttered before going to gather the others.

* * *

Jonathan gazed out the window, staring at the starless sky. "I couldn't sleep," he mumbled to his wife when she walked up beside him, a thick blanket wrapped around herself. "Something's wrong, I can sense it and feel it in my bone-Thayet!" he cried as a hurrok smashed through the window. The creature's claws slashed at Thayet as it stumbled onto the floor. Jonathan grabbed his wife's hand, and began to lead her down the hall when she was suddenly jerked from his grip.

Thayet screamed out in pain when the hurrok's claws bit deep into her leg, pulling her onto the ground. "Jonathan! Get the kids!"

Jonathan's fists clenched and unclenched as he watched, terror-stricken, as his wife tried to defend herself against the immortal. The immortal's teeth latched onto one of her hands while its claws continued to find flesh to tear up. Walking towards the immortal and his wife, Jonathan held out his hand, which was now glowing a royal blue.

Thayet gasped when a beam of blue-colored light slammed into the immortal, and a hole burst through its chest. She felt herself being lifted up from beneath the creature, and she gazed into Jonathan's deep blue eyes. "Jon, we have to get everyone out of here, it's not safe," she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes.

Jonathan nodded, scooped her up into his arms, and took off down the hall shouting for everyone to get out.

* * *

Blackfire led a group of centaurs to the stream, and as he was told, Kalasin was waiting for him there, the spidren hanging in the trees. His eyes narrowed at the immortals before glancing at the girl, "so what is your plan?"

Kalasin sighed as she walked closer to the centaur. She smiled, and held her hand out to him, "do you not trust me? They will not hurt you."

He bit down on his lip, his eyes darting from her hand to the spidren, who appeared to be bored, and back again to the girl's hand. Slowly, he slipped his own hand into hers.

Kalasin smiled as she gave it a squeeze before leading him closer to the spidren. "I have talked with Nightstriker and his kin. They are going to help us, but the first step into helping us is to find out the enemy's plans. Therefore, I'm sending a few of the spidren as spies. They will hang in the trees above the enemy's camping grounds, and they will be able to not only find out possible plans of the enemy, but they can also pick off the guards nearby."

Blackfire nodded, his mind processing the information. "So why do you need us if you have them?" he asked bitterly.

"I need you for battle. You're great warriors, and I will do my best to keep you all alive. The spidren can't truly battle. They can slow the enemy down for us, but that's about it. They can also perhaps keep the flying immortals occupied. I was hoping to have stormwings-"

"Those disgusting creatures! Why on earth would you want _them_?" a spidren shrieked.

"They aren't all bad, and they are on our side. They have battle-magic which we do not. Their wings bite flesh easily, so if they were to be severely injured, they could take out some of the enemy's army as they go to their grave. I haven't seen a stormwing around here since the last great battle though," she said quietly, her eyes darkening.

Blackfire rested a hand upon her shoulder, causing her to look up into his dark eyes. She smiled a little, setting her hand on top of his. "We will come out on top, it's just that our numbers cause us to use strategy which may take a while to carry out."

"Do not forget about your men in cages, and the men we have at the camp."

Kalasin's heart skipped a beat as she remembered that Lerant was still alive. "Lerant," she whispered as her grip on Blackfire's hand tightened.

"Kalasin," he muttered, slipping his hand from hers when she realized what she was doing.

"Sorry," she mumbled, looking away. "Nightstriker, choose who you want to send out as spies and do so now. Have them choose a post nearest the most people, and stay out of sight."

Nightstriker rolled his eye as he turned to look at who was with him. He watched the girl leave with the centaurs out of the corner of his eye. "The rest of you who are not on spy duty, see if you cannot find a stormwing. They have to be around here, somewhere," he said quietly.

* * *

Roald had awoken to screams, and the scent of wood burning. Stumbling out of bed, he pulled on some clothes, and grabbed his sword. Running out of his room, he nearly crashed into a servant whose face had been slashed by something sharp. The Prince's eyes widened as the servant shoved him aside, and continued to run down the hall. 'What is going on?' he thought wildly.

As he made his way down the hall, he realized that the castle, his home, was under attack. Hearing someone scream nearby, Roald pushed against a wall to his left and was let into an empty space. Placing the wall back to its proper position, Roald felt around until he found a chain attached to the floor. Pulling on it, he opened up a passageway, the smell of musty air reaching his nose.

Calling his powers to form a ball of light in his hand, the Prince made his way through the passage, and soon found himself outside the castle walls. Battle was going on here as well. Groups of riders were attempting to hold back an army of immortals and humans alike. Numair was trying to battle a creature of sorts; it was every color at once, and never stopped changing shape.

Animals, Daine's work, were helping in the battle as well. 'Figures she'd not leave us alone, even if she can't be here herself,' he thought as he continued to scan the area. High up on the castle wall his father stood with the Dominion Jewel. Raoul was there, helping to protect him as well as Buri who had been shot in the leg by an arrow. Roald clenched his fist as he aimed at a wolf-like immortal. Blue fire enveloped the creature, the stench of burning fur and flesh rising in the air. He crinkled his nose as he ran to help some others keep as much of the army back as possible. 'We're going to die here,' he thought grimly as he came to stand beside a small, pale Queen's Rider.

* * *

When Kalasin got back to camp with Blackfire and the others, she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, her blue eyes widening. Blackfire glanced where she was staring, a small smile crossing his lips. "Go on," he whispered to her before walking off.

Kalasin stood frozen in place for what seemed hours though it was only a moment. Suddenly she had all the energy in the world, and with that energy, she ran towards Lerant who was sitting next to one of the other soldiers at the fire.

Lerant gasped when he suddenly fell backwards onto the ground, another person's body clinging to his own. He blinked multiple times as he stared into watery blue eyes. 'It can't be. My mind is playing tricks on me,' he thought shakily.

"Oh Lerant, you're awake!" the girl cried, tightening her arms around his neck in a hug.

"K-Kalasin?" he asked, clearly in shock.

Kalasin nodded, ignoring the chuckles that came from the men nearby. Planting a quick kiss on his lips, she crawled off of him and offered him her hand to help him up. "When I got to you, you were so close to death. Raoul told me he didn't think you made it," she said, her voice suddenly very quiet.

Kalasin noticed his eyes darken. She sighed, and looked away from him. "I was told that men are still alive, only they're in cages. I'm going to get them out, Lerant, and I'm-"

"No, Kalasin, I forbid you. You can't possibly survive against that mage and his army! The Lioness didn't even stand a chance!"

Kalasin slipped her fingers over his mouth, "I'm doing what I must. I'm not asking you or anyone of you," she said with a glance at the others nearby, "to join me. I'm just telling you what I'm planning. You don't understand, Lerant. It's my duty, I have to do this whether I want to or not, but I'm sure I want to," she said, surprising even herself by that last remark.

Lerant paled as he took her hand in his, and gripped it tightly. Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile, "if that's your decision, I'll stand by you until the end, my Princess." He smirked when Kalasin glared at him, a blush crawling across her cheeks. "I love you," he whispered before walking off to talk to the others.

* * *

The moving of vines and trees caught the Prince's eye. The vegetation seemed to be engulfing the enemy, though many remained untouched. Stealing a glance at his father, Roald saw that beads of sweat rolled down his face. The Dominion Jewel glowed in his hands, and the earth trembled slightly. Turning his attention back to the battle, Roald grasped his sword with both hands and ran an attacker through his middle. Not bothering to flick the blood off of his blade, Roald charged the enemy.

* * *

Kalasin crouched down in the brush. It was nearly sunset; the spidren spies had informed her that at sunset the watch changed. Wincing as her leg began to cramp, her ears picked up the mumbling of voices. Withdrawing a knife she was given to carry rather than the bulky sword, she waited in silence. Minutes that seemed like hours passed by before Kalasin was sure the new watchman was alone. Inching closer to the edge of the forest, the girl slowly stood up behind the unsuspecting man.

Slipping her hand around his head to cover his mouth, Kalasin pressed the knife's blade against his neck. Pressing deeply, she slid the knife across flesh creating a deep slit that bled heavily onto her hand and weapon. Grimacing, she pulled the suddenly limp body into the brush, making sure that it was well hidden from sight.

All night long, Kalasin picked off various watchmen. No one seemed to notice the men missing when the sky darkened, turning into a mass of black. Swiftly and quietly, the Princess crept towards the campsite of the enemy, crouching behind tents to remain unseen. Here and there groups of rough-looking men sat guffawing at jokes or telling war stories.

The soft clang of metal on metal caused the girl to peer far to her left where her blue eyes rested upon men cramped into a metal cage. Her heart clenched as she briefly looked them over. Each of the men was covered in dirt and dried blood. Their complexion was pale, and they appeared to not have eaten for a few days.

Darting around the back of a few tents, she stopped dead in her tracks when she came within range of the cage. If she were to attempt a rescue, she'd be in the open, and vulnerable to any attack. Not one of her soldiers in the cage seemed to know of her presence until she was within an arm's reach of the metal bars. Sending a prayer to the gods, she held a finger up to her lips to signal the men to be silent as she stole a glance at the barbarians crouched around the fire. It was as if she were invisible as she slowly moved to the locked door, continuously looking over her shoulder to make sure she remained undetected.

Pressing against the door, she whispered to the awaiting soldiers to run into the woods as soon as she got the door open. Waiting until they nodded in a silent agreement, Kalasin grasped the lock in one hand, her knife in the other. Sticking the point of the knife into the lock, she worked on it, biting her lip as a protection spell sent stinging jolt through her body.

Cursing under her breath, Kalasin mumbled a counter spell, and worked the knife until she heard a click. In attempt to pull the lock off of the door, the girl caused a highly audible clatter of metal against metal. Silence, and then yelling erupted from the enemy soldiers around the campfire. Pulling the door open, Kalasin screamed at her men to run as the Scanrans approached, weapons in hand.

Feeling panic enveloping her, Kalasin grasped the knife by the blade and flung it at an oncoming Scanran. The knife inserted itself into the base of his neck causing him to trip over his own feet, crashing into the muddy earth.

* * *

Roald stepped back as a young boy, a Queen's Rider no doubt, fell breathless in front of him. Pushing back that nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach, Roald continued to advance on the enemy, people and immortals alike. Men were yelling back and forth on the wall where his father was positioned, informing the Prince that something was going wrong.

Numair was breathing heavily as black sparkling fire hit the ever-changing figure in front of him. He had seen something quite similar years ago when Daine and he were pulled into the gods' realm. Every attack he sent at the thing became absorbed or deflected. He was draining himself of power and energy, and no good was coming from it. The only help he was giving was distracting the creature as well as slowing down its advance.

* * *

Running into the safety of the woods with the rest of the Tortallian soldiers, Kalasin nearly tripped as arrows whistled past her. Landing with a thud on her bottom, she slid to the edge of the river when the ground dropped suddenly. Groaning a bit, she urged her men on, muttering for them to follow the river.

Onward they ran, their breathing ragged from exhaustion. Once light began to peak through gaps in-between trees, they came to a stop at a clearing. Urging the men on a bit more, Kalasin stopped when a black-haired centaur stepped in front of her. The escaped soldiers fell to their hands and knees, some vomiting while others rolled onto their backs groaning.

"Were you followed?" Blackfire asked worriedly.

Shaking her head, Kalasin waited a moment to catch her breath before spitting out a quick "no".

"This is it then? There were no more?"

"No more," she muttered, standing up a bit straighter now that her lungs no longer ached. "I need to heal them, Blackfire, and they need food and water. Send some of the healed men to fetch these things please," she commanded, pulling up each of the soldiers off of the ground. "Come on, on your feet men, just so we can get you into this tent here," she said, her voice ringing in the air.

* * *

The Prince gaped at the wall as a woman let out a blood-curdling scream. Lord Raoul was crouched beside a severely wounded Buri as arrows flew into the air. One went straight through Raoul's neck as another entered Buri's skull. Feeling himself begin to go numb, Roald looked to where Numair was standing.

The mage was shaking, and his magic blazes were fading before they reached the creature. Collapsing onto the ground, Numair felt his life source slipping away as he willed himself to hold the creature back.

Stealing a glance at his father, Roald felt his heart plummet. His father was holding a cracked Dominion Jewel, and a spear was protruding from his leg while a large red stain on his chest told the Prince that he had been stabbed in the chest and was as good as dead.

* * *

**AN:** Shocked to see I'm alive? Thank you everyone for the reviews! They made me squeal like a psycho-girly-girl. As for the story, I hope you all like how it ends. I'm doing my best, and I know, this was a LONG chapter. Next chapter may be just as long. I will be creating a sequel to this story.

Sadly, I just figured out what a mary-sue was oo and so this is a response to a review I received a long time ago, however, so everyone knows: I tried not to make Kalasin my own character, but since Pierce didn't focus on her too much, I had to be creative. I've tried keeping the born nobility-attitude, but I tried adding more to her character to fit my story and to create a more interesting read.

As for killing off characters :) Well, tragedy happens. Much love everyone!


	15. Chapter 14

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT

**Summary:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking  
_blah_ Dreaming

* * *

Eerie brown eyes flecked with red and yellow examined the body of a dead Scanran. A knife had been lodged into his throat, bursting an artery and blocking the man's windpipe. Clenching his fists, he glared into the woods. "I will not be brought down by a mere _female_ child," he yelled, turning on his heel to face his army. "And neither will you! Prepare for battle!"

* * *

Kalasin stood frozen in front of the small amount of Tortallian soldiers she had healed. Balling her fists, she looked up at the red sunrise as shouts from the leader centaurs rose into the chilly air. Opening her mouth to speak, no sound came out. Wetting her lips with her pink tongue, she tried again. "Stop it" she cried, her voice loud enough to be heard over the arguing. Silence followed her words. "If you don't want to fight for your freedom, and your future, then don't follow me. Those of you who are willing, gather what weapons you can, we'll be engaged in battle soon."

Blackfire glared at the leaders of the herd. "I'm going to fight with her, if you will not, then you condemn everyone you know, and everything you love, to death." Trotting up alongside of Kalasin, he grinned down at her. "We have spare weapons that your men may use."

* * *

Lowering his sword, Roald felt he had no will to continue the fight. Why attempt to attack when they were already defeated? Why not surrender and save what few lives were left rather than continue on in denial of defeat until every last one of them were gone?

Watching an oncoming Scanran raise his sword above his head, Roald sighed. 'This is it,' he thought to himself, ready to accept his fate.

Something ran in front of the Prince, and sparks flew into the air from the clash of metal. Frowning, Roald stared at an auburn-haired Merric. "Merric, no!" he cried, raising his sword to help defend his friend. Swinging down on the Scanran soldier, Roald's sword bit into the man's soft flesh near his neck, killing him instantly.

"You're so stupid, Roald! Why did you leave yourself open like that-Oh never mind! We have to get you out of here, the castle is lost, but so long as you're still alive, we remain in power."

"I can't leave my family here-"

"They're dead, Roald. I'm sorry," added Merric when he saw the Prince's eyes widen. "We have to go _now_."

Roald, his body and mind numb, let himself be pulled along by his friend. The shouts and screams soon became distant as well as the view of his home.

* * *

Kalasin's grip on her sword was tight yet shaky. She had been given a bay mare to ride. Clad in nothing but a leather jerkin, for the weight of any armor was too much for her to withstand, the girl halted her mount at the beginning of the clearing.

Flying immortals roamed the skies ahead while those who could not fly stood impatiently. Doing a quick count of ranks, Kalasin figured the enemy outnumbered them seven to one. Cursing under her breath, the girl looked back over her shoulder. "Those with bows, go around until you're at the enemy's side before you let your arrows rain down upon them. The rest of you will confront the enemy head on." Taking a deep breath to help calm her nerves, the Princess smiled at those who remained with her. "Thank you for letting me fight alongside you, gods bless."

Tapping the mare's haunches with her heels, Kalasin rode at a trot towards the enemy lines. Her blue eyes darted from man to immortal until they rested upon the man who haunted her dreams. "For Tortall, and for freedom!"

Arrows fell from the sky, piercing enemy immortals and humans alike. Screams of pain rang into the air along with the clash of metal. The metallic stench of blood filled Kalasin's nose as she swung her sword through the enemy, closing the distance between herself and the red-eyed mage.

Out of the corner of her eye, the girl saw a pale rope shoot up, latching onto a flying immortal's wing. More ropes followed suit. Smiling, Kalasin silently thanked the spidren; by attacking the flying immortals, her men, along with herself, wouldn't have to worry about attacks from the sky.

A tremendous impact flung her off of the mare. She landed on the ground, gasping for breath as droplets of blood dripped onto her body. Coughing, the Princess pushed herself up off of the soiled ground, and faced her attacker. Her mouth fell open as her eyes scanned the area.

The mage lowered his hand, a smirk on his lips. He had spotted the pampered bitch, and went to finish her off. Everything in front of her was destroyed, and she would have been annihilated as well if it hadn't been for her sword. No, it wasn't her sword, it was the god's sword, and it was radiating with power. 'I am still stronger than any of them,' he thought defiantly, 'no god nor human can kill me!'

Kalasin's lip quivered as her gaze rested upon the mare's head in front of her; it was all that remained of the horse. Anger pumped through the girl's veins, and something inside of her snapped. Readjusting her grip on the hilt of the sword, the Princess screamed and swung the blade towards the mage. Ice-blue fire roared out of the blade, heading straight for the mage.

Narrowing his eyes, the mage held out his hand, a red bolt of lightning jumping out of his palm to clash with the blue fire. The contact of the two powers sent out a wave of energy, knocking anyone and anything in its path away from the two fighters.

The girl felt blood from a scratch on her cheek drip down to her jaw. Cuts began to appear all over her body, and she was growing weak fast. Taking a step forward, Kalasin pushed her power with all her might at the mage, "just die already!" she screamed.

The mage let out a curt laugh, the feeling of blood trickling down his body becoming a slight distraction. Their power was ripping them apart, he realized, a grin spreading across his lips. With a yell, he sent a surge of his power at the Princess, "I will crush you, Kalasin of Conté!"

Power fell down upon the girl. She screamed in agony, feeling as if her very soul was being ripped apart. 'No!' her mind screamed. Blood trickled down to her chin from her mouth as pieces of her clothing were ripped away from her body. Spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground, Kalasin felt her knees wobble just before the great force of power bearing down upon her was cut off.

Lerant grinned at her as his body was being torn to shreds by the mage's attack. "W-win this war for us, Kal, my love."

Kalasin's eyes widened, tears burning her cheeks as they fell. Gripping the sword with all her might, the girl ran pass Lerant's decaying body. Swinging her sword, she knocked startled enemy soldiers aside before letting the blade clash with the Mage's own sword. "You murderer!" she shrieked, sliding the glowing blade from the Mage's, and swinging it in a crescent moon shape.

The mage grinned, and went to block her attack, but the blade blazed in his sight, and sliced clean through his own blade. His red eyes widened as the god's blade bit into his side. A fire engulfed his body, burning his very essence. He would not be sent to the Black God's domain, but to a place far worse, a place where he could never escape. A place where he would face the horrors he set upon the world.

Blackfire rode up beside the sobbing girl, resting his hand on her shoulder. "Now is not the time to mourn for your lover," he said softly. "You have only won half of the battle. The other half awaits you at your home. I will take you there, and I will do what I can, but you are the only one who can make a difference."

Waiting until Kalasin nodded in agreement, Blackfire hoisted her up onto his back, riding off once he was sure she had a firm grip and would not fall off.

* * *

Mithros stood up slowly. A newborn strength was flowing through his veins. "Kalasin, my little goddess," he muttered. Carefully he stretched every muscle in his body, his dull-colored skin becoming its normal glowing bronze color.

* * *

Nothing could have prepared Kalasin for the sight that lay before her; corpses of animals, immortals, and humans alike lay littered upon the ground. The castle, her home, lay in ruin, the walls crumbled and ablaze. Stormwings circled overhead, far away from a large, ever-changing creature that was advancing onto the market square.

"Blackfire, get me as close as you can to that thing, then leave. This is my battle, not yours, and I appreciate your help."

Blackfire glanced at her, "you are sure of this, human?"

"Am I ever sure of what I do?"

Blackfire grinned and took off at a run, dodging enemy stragglers and dead bodies alike. Panting, he slowed and let Kalasin slide off his back. "Gods bless, girl."

Kalasin smiled as he turned to leave. She had regained some of her strength during the ride, but she was still weak. Looking up at the enemy creature, the girl drew in a breath of air. 'This is the end for me,' she thought grimly, 'but I will not be the first to go down.' "Mithros! Lend me your strength once more!"

* * *

**AN:** Well, the end :) runs off to start typing up the sequel

I would like to let everyone know that Black Emerald Dawn has inspired a portion of the plot for the sequel. (thank you!)


	16. Epilogue

**Title:** Knotted Destiny  
**By:** QT

**Summary:** A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking  
'...' Thinking  
_blah_ Dreaming

* * *

_Uusoae screeched as pain seered through her. Looking down, she glared at Kalasin. A human had inflicted pain upon her? Looking to where the human stabbed her, her eyes widened. A sword that glowed pale blue had been thrust into her limb. Rage boiled inside her: she recognized that sword as her brother's._

_Kalasin pulled the blade from Uusoae's leg and rose her sword barely quick enough to block Uusoae's attack. Uusoae had morphed her arm into a spear to use as a weapon. Swearing, the girl yelled, the blade's glow increasing. "This is for Lerant!" Swinging the sword, Kalasin let it clash against Uusoae's weapon, a shimmering multi-colored goo seeping from the gash the Princess caused. "And this is for my family!" Again, the girl's blade bit into Uusoae, an ear-piercing scream filling the air. "And-and this is for everyone whose lives you've destroyed!" Bringing the sword around for one last blow, Kalasin felt her hit become repeled. In her mind she felt a new pressence, a warm, bright light, and a cool, dark mass._

_"That is enough!" boomed a voice which pounded into the Princess's skull._

_"Mother Flame, Father Universe." Feeling her body being picked up, she forced her eyes to focus. A warmth spread through her body as she stared up at Mithros. "Uusoae has disobeyed you yet again. She works with humans who her ties are closest to. She finds ways to get around your bindings that you put on her, and she works to destroy us!" Anger filled his voice as he continued, "My sister, the Goddess has been destroyed on Uusoae's account-"_

_"That is a lie," a voice that was neither male nor female hissed._

_"SILENCE," cried the dark mass, his power bearing down upon them all. "Uusoae, this is the last time you shall ever disobey us!"_

_An enclosure of dark and light substances woven together surrounded Uusoae. Pound and yell as Uusoae might, there was no chance of escape._

_Groaning, Kalasin clung to Mithros, pressing her face against his naked chest._

_"Mithros, it is time to let her go to your brother. She belongs in the Black God's realm."_

_"Mother Flame, Father Universe, please. This would not have been possible without her. She is no ordinary human. She does not belong in my brother's hands."_

_"Mithros, you have mingled far too much with human affairs. I would suggest you not dissobey us," murmered Mother Flame._

_The rest of the conversation, Kalasin didn't catch for she let herself drift off to sleep. She was so weak, she just wanted to rest.

* * *

_

Opening her eyes, Kalasin slipped her hand over the round mass that was her belly. The Princess stood at the room's window, gazing out upon her kingdom. The castle and part of the market had been rebuilt, but there was still great work to be done. The only ones left of her family were herself and her brother Roald, but she was the one who would take her parents' place on the throne.

Roald left to be with his bride, and help her rebuild the Yamani Islands. She was all alone now, with the responsibility to take care of Tortall as well as her child when it would be born. This would be the beginning of a new age. She had undone the knots of her destiny, and straightened the threads that were her path, however, all any it revealed was that her future would be a tapestry of challenges she would encounter.


End file.
